Chrysalis
by sxblx
Summary: The teenaged years of someones life are never easy, especially if said someone is enrolled in Bullworth Academy. (A school filled with raging cliques, crappy teachers, and a violent homeless man wandering around campus). Join Chrysanthemum Skelton as she and her friends try their hardest to survive another year in possibly one of the trashiest schools in America.
1. Therapy (7 years)

**July 2, 2006**

Chrysanthemum Skelton never understood why her father insisted on taking her to weird offices in downtown Los Santos. The buildings were large and grey, and the adults would take scans and ask her tons of personal questions.

"So, how's your home life?"

"It's okay, I guess." Chrysanthemum would say.

"Are you sure, sweetie?" the man would say, too childish for her liking. "You always come in with bruises."

"It's nothing. I just fall a lot."

"Onto your eyes?"

"Um... yes."

And Chrysanthemum didn't like the man she would always end up seeing either. He was quite large, and had an unkept, ratty beard. He walked around like he had gone in his pants all the time, and he just smelt bad. Like skunk, Chrysanthemum thought. Plus, according to a conversation she had overheard between her father and the nanny, they had found him "for cheap in the newspaper."

As disgusting as he may have been, at least he treated her better than her father.

"She has anxiety, Mr Skelton." the man said loudly. "And we're going to have to give her some medication to keep those episodes at bay."

Her father leaned forward violently, and spoke quietly as if she wouldn't be able to hear him in the silent office. "My daughter has no such thing. Anxiety doesn't even exist!"

"Actually, sir, it does, and your daughter has it." the man snapped back, narrowing his eyes venomously. "Now, do you want another nanny quitting, or do you want your child to be _normal_ again? It's up to you."

Her father thought for a moment, "I want her to be normal."

"Exactly, sir." the man smile crookedly.

Chrysanthemum thought the entire thing was ridiculous, but her father didn't seem to think so. Later that night when he dragged her into their gigantic house, fuming and yelling, he whipped around and delivered one slap to the cheek.

"Ten dollars for meds?" he yelled, grabbing onto her wrist violently. "Do you have any idea how expensive that is?"

Chrysanthemum grabbed her wrist back, and said, "I don't think ten dollars will make any dent in your money, dad."

He slapped her again, "You either call me sir, remember?"

"Yessir."

"Good." he gritted his teeth, and walked past Chrysanthemum to yell into the house. "Nanny? NANNY!"

"Yes?" the nanny yelled from somewhere in the house.

"Watch the girl, I'm going out."

Then, without another word, he walked right past her and slammed the door on his way out. He didn't come back home that night.

When the next day of school came, the teachers treated Chrysanthemum differently. Almost like they were afraid to bring something up with her father. And all of the children shoved her around. Into lockers, into desks, into chairs, and into door frames. All while yelling, "Pill popper! Pill popper! You're a pill popper!" It hurt, but Chrysanthemum didn't let anybody on that it did.

Then, as if karma had personally done its duty for Chrysanthemum's sake, she watched in amusement as one of the older kids who had been pushing her around "fell" off the top of the slide and broke his ankle.


	2. New Boy in Town (16 years)

**September 1, 2013**

Chrysanthemum sat back in her chair, and sighed loudly. It hadn't even been a minute and Crabblesnitch was already getting on her nerves.

"We can't have repeats of last year, Skelton." she could hear him saying. "You nearly got expelled, and you are aware that the only reason you're still here is because of your father, right?"

"Sure, Crabblesnitch."

"Hm?"

"I mean, yessir."

"And another thing, I see you and Gary Smith have a few classes together this year. I don't want you two causing anymore disturbances. Another thing we don't want a repeat of."

Chrys, bored and agitated, crossed her arms over her chest and glanced sideways at her family. Her father, step-mother, and three year old half-brother.

Her father and his blond hair, blue eyes, and icy white skin. His hard eyes, his perfect teeth, his sickly fake smile, his clenched fists. Her step-mother and her blonde hair, green eyes, and fake tanned skin. Her softer eyes permanently bloodshot from crying, her mouth with missing teeth, her smile that was once genuine but isn't anymore, her hands and their various scars. Her half-brother and his dirty blond hair, green eyes, and his innocence. Chrys and her brown hair, brown eyes, and olive skin. Her suspicious eyes, her crooked and chipped teeth, her cocky half smile, her shaking hands.

On the outside, she supposed they seemed like a picture perfect family. But they really weren't. Not in the slightest.

"Chrysanthemum Skelton!" Crabblesnitch yelled, knocking her out of her trance. "Are you even listening?"

Chrys shrugged slightly and said smugly, "No, sir, I wasn't. I was looking at my father, step-mother, and half-brother wondering how the fuck we ended up like we did — "

"Skelton, watch your language!"

" — and then, I was about to start wondering how out of place I must look among this family because I'm the only one who's not whiter than snow, but I was rudely interrupted — "

"Okay, I think our time here is pretty much done." Crabblesnitch said with a fake smile, standing up from his desk and gesturing for the family to leave. "Miss Danvers, can you please escort the Skelton's out?"

Almost instantly, the woman Chrys knew to be Miss Danvers appeared in Crabblesnitch's doorway, and smiled sweetly. Then gestured for Chrys and her parents to follow behind her. With Crabblesnitch's office behind her, Chrys smirked slightly, but the smirk didn't last long.

"What in the living fuck is wrong with you?" her father whispered violently, grabbing onto Chrys' shoulders. Trent (who was the son of Chrys' step-mother, making him her step-brother) had joined them, and she smiled at him, before her father snapped her back toward himself. "Do you know how much money I've had to pay to keep you in this place? Hm? I personally think the money would be better spent sending you to prison, but no. I'm a good man, and I kept my children in school."

"Yes, a very good man..." she said slowly, eye narrow. "That's why you almost got charged for fraud a little while ago, right?"

"Shut the fuck up! Shut up!"

"And also why I have scars, and Trent had scars, and my mother has scars, and my brother has scars, and everybody around you had scars, right?" Chrys mocked loudly, enough to get the attention of a few surrounding students. "Oh, but it must just be a coincidence that I come back every fall with bruises and cuts and new scars on my face. Because you're _such_ a good man."

"Keep your voice down — "

But instead Chrys raised it. "And because you're a very respectable, noteworthy man, you'd never hurt a fly."

"Yes, I have heard of your father's respectability." someone Chrys instantly recognized said behind her. "He seems like a wonderful man."

"Indeed," Chrys said back, unlatching herself from the grips of her father, and turning to find Gary Smith, her infamous boyfriend. "And since Gary and I have seen how great you truly are, it must be true. We never tell lies."

"I can vouch for that one," Trent pipped up, smirking.

"Thanks, brother dearest." Chrys bowed slightly, taking Gary's hand in hers.

"You are very welcome, sister dearest." he said back, in a slightly mocking tone.

Chrys' father sighed angrily for a moment, and she could tell he really wanted to slap her. But he couldn't — not in public. He wouldn't dare risk tainting his perfect reputation. So he internalized it, but Chrys could see the rage waiting to explode at the surface. She felt bad for her step-mother, but she wasn't any better. She just wasn't physical with her abuse.

Often times what she said would hurt. But Chrys wouldn't let her know that it hurt, so her step-mother would just keep doing it. And Trent was like Chrys in the way that he wouldn't say anything, but even worse. Once, his mother had told him he was a mistake when he was younger, and he really never forgot. It was the sort of thing he only remembered when he didn't want to, and it had fucked him up pretty bad in the mental department. Another time, she had told Chrys that the Italian part of her was dirty. But Chrys thought all of her was dirty, really.

"We better get going, sweetheart." her step-mother cooed, holding her husbands shoulder tightly as if he might get away. "We've got that party to go to... at the Harrington's, remember?"

Her father grunted, and said, "You remember to keep that nose clean, got it?"

Venomously, Chrys snapped, "I got it. Don't worry." And watched with narrowed eyes as her parents left down the stairs, and out the door.

"So..." Gary said after a moment, "have you heard about the new kid?"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. The Hopkins kid, right?" Chrys said shortly after waving goodbye to Trent. "The one coming from who the fuck knows because there's no other schools to take him. Yeah, I've heard about him."

"I say we make acquaintances with him, and see where it takes us." Gary said smoothly, grabbing Chrys' hips and pulling her into a hug. "I've got a plan for this year, and I think he might be able to help us."

"What's the plan?"

"I'll tell you later when it's more developed, okay babe?"

"Sure." Chrys smiled, pulling her head back to kiss Gary's cheek. "You want to go find Petey?"

Gary sighed, and rolled his eyes. "Do we have to?"

"He's our friend, Gary."

"Your friend," Gary corrected, "I don't have friends. They're for the weak."

Leading Gary down the stairs by his hand, Chrys asked, "If you don't have friends, then what am I?"

"The exception." he said smiling.

"Cheesy."

"You're the one who asked."

And as Chrys swung open the doors of the academy to the outside, she cringed. Bullworth Academy was a gong show. And that was putting it lightly.

If someone was really far away, couldn't see, and had no idea how students should interact with each other, Bullworth might feel like a functioning school. But it wasn't. Chrys had been attending since she was nine, and every year since then something horrible had happened to someone, and several times with several different people.

Details weren't really Chrys' strong suit, but something she had witnessed when she was eleven really made her realize how bad Bullworth was. And she didn't like to get into it since it brought back bad memories. But as a general thing, a friend she once had named Jordan had gotten himself into some trouble, and some of the townie kids decided it was time to show him what was up. But they took it a little too far, and... bad memories. Chrys had witnessed the entire thing, and so had Johnny Vincent (but he didn't like to think about it much either).

Anyway, there was also the problem of bullying at Bullshit Academy. The raging cliques had a social order when it came to everything, and those cliques down near the bottom often had it the worst.

At the top of the food chain there were the jocks. The typical sporty, rude, overzealous teenagers who were all pumped with steroids.

Next in line were the greasers. They brought the 50's back with their greased hair and leather jackets, and most of them were pretty nice, but only if you knew them well.

Next was the preps, otherwise known as the south side rich kids. They were all money and condescending attitudes, plus most (if not all, but Chrys couldn't remember) spoke in faux British accents, and (possibly worst of all) they were all inbred.

After the preps came the bullies, and that was the clique her step-brother Trent fit into. They were basically exactly what their title said — bullies — and they wasn't anything particularly outstanding to them except for the fact that they were assholes.

And last and always least, there was the nerds. The typical "still haven't hit puberty, but have the sex drive of a million teenaged boys" nerds, and also the "I'm pathetic and can't defend myself" nerds.

Basically, the Bullworth student body was a giant shit hole. Chrys couldn't wait to see the new kids face when he realized how messed up Bullworth was.

"Hey, Chrys." Christy, a girl in the year above Chrys, waved as Gary and Chrys walked by. "Have you heard about how Lola got — "

Chrys quickly turned around, "Listen, not right now. Definitely later. But not now. Have you seen Pete around?"

"Pete?"

"Y'know, Pete? The short kid with the pink shirt."

"OH! Yeah, that kid." she said sweetly, pointing in the direction of the gates. "His dad just dropped him off."

"Kay. Thanks, Angie."

"I'm Christy."

"Dammit... uh, Christy. Thanks." Chrys said, embarrassed that she had forgotten her name. "Catch you later."

Christy raised an eyebrow, and crossed her arms over her chest. Chrys could tell she was insulted by the name mixup, but she wasn't saying anything. If Chrys knew Christy as well as she thought, she'd definitely go talk about it later, though. Probably spreading some rumour about how Chrys was suffering from memory loss. Christy was just like that, and there wasn't ever going to be a change.

"Ah, there's the little bitch now." Gary said loudly, pointing at the slight boy with his back turned. "I can already hear his annoying, squeaky voice."

"Hey, play nice." Chrys said.

"What? It's not my fault he's literally the worst to be around." Gary snapped.

Chrys rolled her eyes, and as they approached Pete yelled, "Hey, hey, hey, Petey!"

She saw him jump a little, but calm down when he realized it was just Gary and Chrys — his two sort of friends. "Oh, hey." He grunted as he put a large suitcase onto the sidewalk, and looked them over cautiously. He'd be damned if he was getting pranked on the first day of school.

"Looking for pranks, Pete?" Gary smirked. "Well don't worry. I'm giving you a little time to warm up before the fun begins."

"Awesome." Pete said sourly, cocking an eyebrow. "Really appreciate it."

"Consider it an early birthday present."

"My birthday was over the summer. It already passed." Pete said.

"Consider it an early Christmas present." Gary corrected himself, a smirk on his lips.

Chrys laughed a little, and ran her hand across Gary's back. In a moment, she wondered how the school year was going to go, but it quickly all vanished when she heard Gary gasp slightly. She quickly turned to look at him and, upon seeing he had his head turned toward the gate, snapped her head that way.

"Holy shit... That's the new kid?" Chrys said quietly, removing her herself from Gary, and taking a few steps toward the gate. "He's looks rough."

"You look rough too, you two will get along then." Pete said.

She swung her hand at his stomach, and hit him right underneath the ribs. "Shut it."

"Well, should one of us go talk to him?" Gary said.

"I don't know..."

"Uh, yeah..." Pete said softly, holding his stomach. "And I vote Chrys takes one for the team."

"Why? You scared he'll crush you like the delicate flower you are?" Chrys snapped back.

"No, no no... Chrys, you should go." Gary agreed, shoving her slightly forward and taking a few steps back. "Maybe if the first person he talks to is a hot girl he'll warm up to us faster." he smirked, and Chrys stuck out her tongue.

"Whatever, fine." Chrys held up her hands in defeat. "I'll go."

As she started toward the new Hopkins kid, she started to see exactly how rough he looked. From a far, someone wouldn't really be able to make it out, but up close he was definitely a delinquent. He even had a single ear piercing, which was almost always a telltale sign of someone who caused trouble. Chrys liked him already.

"Miss Danvers — " she said loudly as she reached the new kids side and Miss Danver's side as well. She always greeted new kids at the gates. " — may I please have a moment to introduce myself to the new boy?"

"Actually, Skelton, we were just — "

"Uh, too bad." Chrys spoke over her, turning to look the new kid directly in the eyes. "Hello, new kid, my name's Chrysanthemum Skelton. But most just call me Chrys."

He looked awed for a moment, before he narrowed his eyes. "Um... hey, Chrys. I'm Jimmy."

Chrys smiled charmingly, and then took a step to the side to reveal Gary and Pete who were standing quite a bit away observing. "If you ever need anything, you can come find me, or either of my two friends over there. Welcome to Bullshit Academy, Jimmy." And with that, she turned quickly and left, just narrowly avoiding a stern lecture about swearing from Miss Danvers.

"How'd it go?" Pete asked as Chrys made it back, an angry looking Miss Danvers in the background.

"Fine... I think."

"Well, does he seem like he'd be a helpful attribute to the plan?" Gary asked, arms crossed over his chest.

"You never told me the plan, babe. Remember?"

Gary cocked an eyebrow, confusion on his face. But it quickly swept away, never to be seen again. "Right... well how does he seem? Okay? Smart? Someone we could befriend — "

"I thought you didn't have friends." Chrys interrupted, eyebrows raised. He looked a bit angry for a moment, but when he realized Chrys had realized, he smiled. That was the only thing she hated about Gary — he could flip emotions in a fraction of a second.

"Very clever, darling." Gary said sarcastically.

Chrys, sensing the sarcasm, said, "Thank you, thank you. I'll be here all week."

"Unfortunately." Pete said.

"Ha ha, fuck you." she said, ruffling Pete's hair.

Momentarily, Pete looked like he might defend himself, but it quickly vanished away. He wasn't one for confrontation. Especially with friends. To be honest, Chrys thought it might be because he had so little that any chance to lose somebody must to have been avoided. But she didn't know. Quite frankly, she didn't care much either.

The sun hung high in the sky, and there was an abundance of dark, storm clouds on the horizon. Chrys figured rain would most likely be inevitable by the next morning, but she couldn't know for sure. Weather had always been unpredictable in Bullworth. Maine state had a weird way of being like that. The only thing Chrys missed about Califonia was the predictability. But regardless, Chrys felt a little bad for the new kid Jimmy Hopkins. First day in Bullworth and it rains. Just like Chrys' first day.

Presently, however, the weather was that sort of chilly that's not really chilly and is actually comforting. Chrys couldn't make sense of it. But Gary didn't seem to notice when she was lost in thought about this occurrence, or when she was stumbling just behind them ignoring the oncoming nerds, or when she ran directly into a nerd she was incredibly not fond of. When he did notice, the insults had already started flying, and there's no way to put back together an exploded bomb.

"Watch where you're going, psycho!" Algie, a rather large nerd with a slight lisp and an unfortunate disposition, snapped. His books and papers were already all over the ground, and it was only the first day. "What? Were you lost in your little sociopathic daydream?"

"Oh, bite me, pee stain." Chrys yelled back, shoving his shoulder so aggressively that some of the kids around sensed a physical fight coming on. "I'm not a sociopath, I'm a psychopath. If you're gonna insult me, at least get the terminology right."

Algie, having forgotten about the nickname he'd received as a result of peeing his pants when he got nervous, frowned. He hated the nickname, especially coming from Chrys. The whole thing just drove him mental. Tears were present in his eyes, but he knew better than to cry in front of bullies. They wanted power. Crying meant less power. At least that's what his mother said.

"You're making me really angry!" he yelled. "You're gonna regret it!"

"Yeah?" Chrys mocked. "And what're you gonna do about it? Punch me? You _don't_ have the balls."

"Yeah I do!"

"Mmhm... is that why you went to shove me once and stopped because "I'm a girl"?" Chrys mocked, crossing her arms over her chest and smirking. "Because I don't think you have to balls to hit a me, let alone anybody."

Algie was silent for a moment too long, and Chrys took it as a win. Which, in a way, it was. Because he'd never be able to win against someone as oppressive as Chrys. And they both knew it. Everybody did.

"Oh wow, look what we have here... Algie not defending himself! Wow! What else is new?" Chrys exclaimed, an annoying sort of fake excitement in her voice. She hated him, and really wanted to drive that point in. "I really regret making you angry now... after I've seen what you can do."

There was silence on Algie's side. And she could see tears in his eyes.

"Awe, don't cry." Chrys said. "It only gives the bullies power, remember?"

"Shut up." Algie managed to say, but Chrys couldn't hear him over the lump in his throat.

"What?"

"SHUT UP!" he snapped, shoving Chrys backward as hard as he could. "Just go. You win."

Gary, witnessing the nerd he _loathed_ shove his girlfriend, quickly ran over and grabbed Chrys' shoulders. He'd be damned if Chrys got a detention on the first day. It had happened once to him, and Crabblesnitch wasn't in the mood. Plus, Gary knowing Chrys and all, she would've killed Algie if she could.

Hands clasped on Chrys' shoulders tightly, Gary pulled her away from the nerd in the year under them, and through the crowd of teenagers now gathered around. Bullworth Academy had a thing for fights, and everybody had to be around if they were happening. And today wasn't an exception, but today Gary was also exceptionally pissed. Algie had touched his girlfriend, and Algie had called her names, and Algie was dumb, and he wanted to kill him. But that'd have to wait for another day.

"You're ridiculous..." Pete said as the trio reached the steps of the school. Far enough away that Chrys could blow off some stem without attacking Algie. "You've already picked a fight, and you've been here for twenty minutes tops."

Chrys rolled her eyes. "Whatever, man. At least I'm not a passive "oh I'll let you stomp all over me" kinda person like you."

"I'm not passive."

"Pete, you let a twelve year old kid take your twenty bucks because she threatened you with a sharpened pencil." Gary said.

"And also let Ted and Damon swirly you without a fight." Chrys added.

Pete sighed, and sat back onto his luggage. "Whatever."

" _Whatever_..." Chrys mocked.

And in that moment, Pete could feel the rage building up inside of him. But Chrys knew he'd never say anything. And he knew too.


	3. New Year, Same Old Chrys (16 years)

**September 1, 2013**

The girls dorm was disgusting. Not in the way like the boys dorm, but in its own little way. It didn't have rats like the boys dorm, although some of the girls there could be mistaken as such. It didn't have any rotten smells, but it didn't have the overwhelming smell of stale tears and incense. It also didn't have couches full with weird looking insects, but then again the couches weren't really that good either.

Gary liked to say that Chrys should've been grateful because "the girls dorm is way cleaner, and nicer than the boys" but Chrys honestly didn't think so. Rumours spread like wildfire, girls stabbed each other in the back (figuratively... for the most part), and worst of all: boys spied on girls... A LOT.

Chrys had just entered the girls dorm, when a prefect was walking out angrily holding the boy Bo by an ear. She was yelling at him — loudly. Something about "don't be a pervert!" And Pinky (a girl belonging to the prep clique) was standing in the hallway, her arms crossed over her chest, and her Bullworth uniform half on. She was murmuring something like, "Boys are so disgusting!" And as Chrys walked by, she flashed Pinky an award winning smile.

At the beginning of the year, the prefects always created the dorms and their roommates to fit who they thought got along the best. Usually the popular kids were with the popular kids, and the cliques usually stayed with their cliques. When they made their decision, they'd post it up on the wall near the door. So, Chrys worried at who she might have she glanced at the sheet.

Last year, she'd been roomed with two of rhe preppiest cheerleaders in school, who despised each other. Mandy, the head cheerleader, and Pinky, the second in command. They were rival cliques, and just generally rivals in life. Mandy fancied throwing itching powder into Pinky's bed, and Pinky enjoyed stealing Mandy's school notes in classes they had together. The room was a constant war zne, and Chrys prayed (to a god she didn't believe in) that she would room with someone better. Hopefully.

Usually they put Chrys somewhere on the bottom floor, but this year she was placed in a room upstairs and just to the right of the staircase. Chrys saw that Angie Ng was rooming with her, but didn't really bother to look for the others. Angie wasn't the most pleasant person to be around, but she definitely wasn't the worst. So Chrys figured it couldn't be that bad. Besides, nothing topped rooming with two of the academy's most jealous, squeaky cheerleaders.

Bouncing up the stairs with her bags in hand, Chrys found her room, and walked in. There was four beds, which meant three roommates, and two of the roommates were already in the room so Chrys didn't have to sit in panic until one of them came. The two beds against the wall right from the door had already been claimed by Angie and that weird chick Eunice. They were talking like old friends, and didn't notice Chrys until she threw her stuff down onto a bed. As Chrys began to unpack, she heard Eunice sigh. The two didn't get along.

"Hey Chrys! How was your summer?" Angie asked excitedly.

Chrys, focused on unpacking as quickly as possibly, didn't turn to look at Angie. "Uh... shitty. It was shit. How was yours?"

"It was great! Guess what?"

"Hm?"

"My parents let me get a bunny! I love bunnies... they're so great!"

Chrys nodded disinterestedly, "My father didn't let me get a rabbit."

Angie, knowing of the issues Chrys had with her father, glanced sideways at Eunice uncomfortably. "Uh... did you even want a bunny?"

Chrys pulled out her Bullworth uniform (white button up shirt, green plaid skirt, green plaid tie, white knee socks, black dress shoes), and began to change. "Not particularly, but it's the thought that counts, and he definitely didn't think about it." Almost done changing, and sensing the tension she'd put in the room, Chrys changed subjects. "You guys know who else is rooming with us?"

Although Chrys couldn't see her, she could sense Angie's eyes widen. "Uh..." she laughed nervously. "You didn't look at the rooming chart?"

"I knew you were, but I didn't know about Eunice. Who else? I don't like surprises."

"You won't like this either — " Angie began to say, but was sharply interrupted.

The door creaked open, and in stepped a girl that made Chrys groan loudly.

"For fuck sake... Lola?"

Lola glanced over to Chrys, and frowned. "Oh, hey! Happy to see me, psycho?"

Chrys sat on the edge of her bed to put her socks on, and sighed. "Oh yeah, definitely. I'm so excited to share a room with Bullworth's star whore."

"At least I'm not dating the sociopath." Lola said slyly, walking over to the bed that seemed too close to Chrys' now, and throwing her things down. "What's his name again? Gary, or something."

"Screw you." Chrys said. "You know his name. He's not a nobody. Unlike some people."

"Are you suggesting I'm a nobody?"

Chrys smirked, "No. You're definitely not a nobody. Everybody knows you as the "pay me a dime and I'll suck your dick!" kinda gal."

"At least I'm in high demand." Lola said.

"At least I'm not a slut." Chrys retorted.

Her words hung in the air, and she smiled bitterly. Chrys turned to Angie and Euince, "Sorry you had to witness that. I'll catch you two later, yeah?"

Angie and Eunice nodded hesitantly.

"Now, if you'll excuse me, ladies, I'm going to go find my nobody of a boyfriend."

After fifteen minutes or so of wandering around on campus, Chrys concluded that Gary was most likely still in the boys dorm. Not wanting to get in too much trouble on the first day, Chrys just decided to walk around for a bit until Gary showed up. However, that plan was put to a speeding halt when she saw a stocky, rough looking boy staring confused at a paper in his hands. It was Jimmy Hopkins. The new kid. Part of Gary's plan... she had to talk to him.

"Jimmy, right?" Chrys said quickly, stopping directly in front of this kid. He looked up from his paper with narrowed, suspicious eyes, and nodded slowly. "Ah, well I've heard a lot of things about you. Arson, bad language, misconduct... I think we're going to get along just fine."

He gritted his teeth, "Leave me alone, loser."

"Why?" Chrys insisted bitterly, narrowing her eyes back.

"Just fuck off! What's your problem?"

Chrys shrugged, "I figure it's mostly my abusive father, but maybe it's also my alcoholic mother. It could be my step-mother too, but who knows. For sure, my problem is that I'm an anxious mess, and I'm on meds with rather bad side effects. But anyway, who cares about me? What's wrong with you? You're the one who's insulting someone you don't even know."

That shut him up.

"Anyway..." she cleared her throat, "if you don't remember, my name's Chrys. Technically Chrysanthemum, but if you call me that I'll tear your head off."

"Nice." he said sarcastically.

"Yeah, and I don't mean to be blunt, but I think we should be friends."

"That was blunt." Jimmy said, stalling to think of an answer.

"I'm aware." Chrys said, knowing he was stalling. "So... friends or no? I can show you the basics of this hell."

Jimmy wasn't sure how he felt about Chrys. She seemed off. Like there was something rooted deep inside her brain that made her act funny. Maybe it was because she had anxiety, Jimmy thought, but it didn't seem like that. She was pretty enough, mind the scars scattering her face. Plus, she seemed nice. Okay, maybe nice wasn't the best word, but she was definitely more friendly than any other person at Bullworth. But Jimmy knew better than to trust off people straight away.

"I don't know yet." Jimmy said. "Maybe."

"Good enough for me." she smiled.

As they started toward the main school building, Chrys turned to Jimmy. "Can I give you a bit of advice?"

"Depends." he said.

"On what?"

"Whether it's going to be condescending or not."

Chrys smiled, and said. "It's not going to be."

"Then shoot."

"Okay. If you take anything away from me this year I want it to be this: Bullworth is kinda like a onion, alright? Pull back one layer, and there's another underneath. The deeper you get, the worse they get."

Jimmy glanced sideways angrily at a big jock ape who was staring him down. "Yeah, and?" he asked.

"All I'm saying is I hope you're smart enough to realize when you're being used."

Jimmy snorted. _Of course I am... Does she think I'm stupid?_

Putting a clump of brown hair behind her ear, Chrys hopped up the steps of the academy. Pushing open the front doors, she walked in and saw several fights about to ensue (one caused by Trent, go figure) and turned to give Jimmy a grand welcome.

Chrys raised her arms in a grand gesture, and smiled bitterly. "Welcome to hell, kid."

"Can't be that bad, can it?" Jimmy asked.

"It's worse than torture." Chrys confirmed.

Jimmy nodded. "Awesome."

"Yessir." Chrys said, hearing the distinct sound of a fist hitting skin. "It's a real shit show. Where'd you go to school before?"

"Liberty City. But I got expelled from every high school."

"Wait..." _Liberty City, Liberty City, that was in the paper for something..._ "That Niko Bellic guy lived there, right? That underground guy. His girlfriend was killed in a drive by shooting."

"Right." Jimmy nodded.

"I've never been to Liberty City... is it nice?"

Jimmy shrugged, and Chrys could see it in his eyes that he hated the place with a passion. "Nice enough. Where're you from?"

"Los Santos." Chrys said, eyes slightly narrow. "Didn't really like it much anyway."

"Yeah, there's a lot of crime." Jimmy agreed, acknowledging that there was something bigger that Chrys was alluding to. "And a lot of poverty."

"Shitty people, too." Chrys said.

"No kidding."

And then the conversation dropped. Chrys didn't know what to say, and neither did Jimmy. But thankfully, right as Chrys was about to make a rude comment about one of the nerds, Gary swooped in behind her and wrapped his arm around her shoulders. He smiled brightly, and looked at Jimmy like an old friend.

"Hey, I see you've met my wonderful _girlfriend_ , Chrys." Chrys thought Gary had put a bit too much emphasis on the word girlfriend, but Jimmy didn't seem to notice, so she brushed it off. "If you want, we can show you around this prison."

Jimmy nodded.

"Okay, let's go."

xxxxxxxxxx

"Let's go to the cafe. We'll show ya who's who."

Chrys sighed. She didn't like being within ten meters of the cafeteria. It smelt bad, the food was horrendous, and food fights were inevitable. Plus, Chrys had heard that the cooking lady, Edna, spit and sneezed into the food she made to add flavour (as she liked to call it). But since Chrys hadn't ever been put on cooking duty despite her numerous offences, she couldn't confirm it. Chrys honestly wouldn't put it past her though.

The trio entered the cafe by walking down the small flight of stairs. The room was pretty chaotic as usual. The non-clique students were trying to manoeuvre through the egotistical clique students, though few were succeeding in not pissing them off. In the cafeteria the cliques had their own "assigned" tables, and anyone within a certain distance was usually cussed out. But Chrys didn't care. And that much was apparent when she began off toward the boys with leather jackets.

On her way to the greasers, Chrys passed by the nerd table. She hated all of them. They were all gross, and weak, and cried a lot, and couldn't take a joke. Ernest was the head of the nerds, and he had to be the worst by far, but Chrys didn't like to go into detail about him. All anybody really had to know about the nerds was pretty simple. They were sneaky bastards. They were the supply of all of Bullworth's odd, homemade weapons. And their "turf" was the library.

After the nerds table was the preps table. They were the sworn enemy of the greasers. Partly because the preps were rich and the greasers weren't, but it might have also been because the preps were flat out assholes. Basically, all they were was money and condescending attitudes. Plus, they were inbred "to keep the money in the family." Chrys gagged at the thought, and Derby Harrington (the leader of the preps) saw her, but didn't say anything.

Next was the jocks. They hated the nerds with a passion, and that was something Chrys and the entirely of the jock clique had in common. But that was pretty much it. Ted Thompson was the leader of the jocks, and he was dating Mandy Wiles. They were the stereotypical movie couple. The only thing different from the movies was that Ted pumped steroids, and so did the rest of the clique. Chrys didn't like to pick fights with them anymore since there had a few instances where she had ended up in the infirmary. But to those memories resurfacing, Chrys shoved past Ted, and sneered when he turned to glare.

Finally, Chrys reached the clique she actually wanted to see: the greasers. They were from the slums of Bullworth, and wore leather jackets with greased hair as some sort of rebellion. She found the style aesthetically pleasing, but wouldn't let Gary know that. He got jealous very easily, especially when it came to Johnny Vincent (the leader of the greaser clique). Even presently, as Chrys was looking at Johnny, she could feel Gary's eyes burning into her. He didn't have to worry about things like that though... he wasn't dating someone like Lola.

"What d'you want?" Johnny asked.

"Wow, really feeling the love, you dick." she said smiling. "And to answer, I was wondering if I could buy smokes off you."

Johnny raised an eyebrow. "Since when does Miss "I'm-Never-Taking-Another-Drag-Off-Of-One-Of-Those-Things-Again" smoke?"

"Since my father told me not to."

He cracked a crooked smile. "Nice. Rebellion, I like it."

"Yeah, so do we have a deal?" Chrys asked impatiently.

"Sure thing, kid." Johnny agreed, digging in his pocket for a pack of cigarettes. "First one's on the house."

"Thanks, Johnny." she said, tucking them into the waistband of her skirt quickly. "Expect to see a lot of me this year."

"Wouldn't want it any other way." he said. "Oh yeah, and another thing."

"Hm?"

"There's a party a few nights from now." Johnny said lowly. "I know Gary ain't a partier, but if you wanted to come — "

"Yeah, I'll be there." Chrys said. "I'll try to talk Gary into it, but we'll see about him. What're the details?"

"New Coventry. Tenements. Bring your own booze, if you can. I'll see you there."

 _BLLLRING!_

 _BLLLRING!_

 _BLLLRING!_

And with a quick wave, Chrys turned on her heels, and started off excitedly toward Gary and Jimmy.

Out of all the people Johnny Vincent could've asked to come, Chrys didn't think she'd be one of them. They hadn't really had a proper conversation since they were thirteen, but that was because Lola decided to break them up, and Chrys was still a little bitter about it. She thought that maybe that bitterness showed, but she couldn't be sure. Just like Johnny couldn't be sure if Chrys would actually show up. Or like how Johnny was unsure of why he had asked Chrys.

But Chrys couldn't be bothered to dwell on a petty subject like that. She had a bigger problem. And it was how she was going to get Gary to loosen up a little and come to a party. Especially one with booze, and if there was booze, they was going to be drugs, and Gary hated them with a passion. Gary definitely was NOT a party animal. Although, the first (and one of the only) time Chrys had gotten him drunk ended in the police being called, and the two spending a night in jail.

The next time he was drunk, Chrys had unknowingly coaxed him into doing some lines with her and a few townie's while she was smashed. The two were drunk out of their minds, high as a kites, and dancing like mad to a song Chrys couldn't remember. Since their judgement was pretty impaired, Chrys didn't really remember a lot of the night. But she did remember waking up next to Gary half naked the next morning. And him smirking slyly at her attempt to cover herself up. They had probably fucked the night before, but Chrys honestly couldn't remember.

Then, the third and final time Gary had been to a party, it had been hosted by Edgar — the head of the townie kids. And if Chrys knew him better at the time, she wouldn't have gone. But Gary wanted to, so Chrys rolled her eyes and agreed, secretly glad he wanted to get out. Long story short, the party wasn't a very good party for a bunch of sixteen year olds to be going to. Edgar was older, and therefore was actually able to buy his own booze (there was tons), and Gary drank and drank and drank. He slept for an entire day and a half afterwards, and he vowed off the whole party scene after that.

But Chrys could persuade him. She knew she could.

"Gary, Jimmy — there's a party tonight in New Coventry. Let's go to it." Chrys said, smiling wide. "There's gonna be a bunch of kids from Bullworth there. Probably some townie's, too."

Gary frowned, and narrowed his eyes. "Who invited you?"

"Johnny."

"And what's it for?"

Chrys shrugged, "No idea. Probably back to school... or something."

"Sure. Let's do it." Gary said suddenly, something shifting in his eyes and making him look more... dangerous. "It'll be a good place for Jimmy to meet everyone. If he wants to come, of coarse."

Both Gary and Chrys glanced sideways at him, and Jimmy nodded hesitantly.

"Okay." Gary said smiling. "Let's do it."

Chrys was relieved it didn't take much to make him agree, but she was suspicious. Gary didn't usually do things like that unless he wanted something. Then again, he probably did want something. Chrys didn't care though. She hadn't been to a party in forever, and the thought of having some amount of booze in her system was something exhilarating. Maybe Chrys could forget everything for awhile.

"Awesome. Just don't get too drunk. Or else school'll be hell tomorrow."

"Yeah... hangovers. Shit." Gary said, as if he had forgot. "Well, whatever. What're gonna do, right?"

"Right." Chrys said.

"Well, let's get to class, shall we?"

Chrys groaned as they exited the cafeteria. "Do we have to?"

"Yes." Gary said sternly. "You have chemistry, and you can't miss that. It's important."

"Oh, I have chemistry too." Jimmy commented.

"Sweet. Personally, it's my second favourite class on the basis that I get to blow shit up. Anyway, I'm sure you'll like it just fine."

"Yeah... I'm sure I will." Jimmy said, squinting his eyes.

"Okay, baby, I'll see you at lunch, yeah?" Gary said, moving closer to kiss Chrys.

She kissed him, and then began to walk toward the chemistry classroom, "Of coarse you'll see me at lunch. Why wouldn't you?"

Gary shrugged, and then ran off.

"So... Chrys, right?"

Chrys slowed down slightly so Jimmy was walking next to her, and smiled. "Yeah."

"Uh... this party later — is there going to be any sort of booze or?"

"Yeah, obviously. Why? Never been to a party before?" Chrys asked, more condescending than she had intended.

Instantly Jimmy got defensive. "Yeah, I have! It's just... I was just wondering. Never mind."

"Okay. If you insist."

Right as Jimmy was about to say something else, Chrys veered off quickly toward the chemistry classroom and opened the door. Instantly, a variety of odd smells hit her all at once. Coughing, she grabbed Jimmy by the forearm and dragging him to the work stations closest to the door.

Doctor Watts, the chemistry teacher, glanced up from his book to see who the new students were, and he frowned. "Hello, Skelton. It's nice to see you."

"That couldn't've sounded anymore sarcastic." Chrys smirked.

"It'll be more genuine once you promise to not cause any mishaps this year." he said, his eyes narrowing venomously. _Anymore funny business and her ass is getting kicked right out of Bullworth_. "Especially since a certain student is in this class."

Chrys glanced around and saw that, in fact, Ernest was in that class. And Ernest was almost one hundred percent getting what he got last year.

"Sure." Chrys agreed. "No mishaps."

Doctor Watts didn't look convinced. "Thank you, Skelton."

Jimmy leaned in close to Chrys and whispered, "What happened last year?"

Chrys smirked, "You see that skinny kid with the glasses over there?" Jimmy nodded. "Okay, well that's Ernest. He's the leader of the nerd clique, and he's gross. Last year I caught him spying on some girls in the dorm, and we had chemistry together. So I decided to those some reactive chemicals into his concoction when he wasn't looking and... BOOM! There goes his eyebrows..."

Jimmy looked frightened for a moment, before he smiled. And in that smile, Chrys found something she hadn't ever found before: a best friend willing to keep up with her antics. As Watts began his lecture, Chrys wondered if her and Jimmy were really going to get along. Because... oh if they were... it was going to be one hell of a year.

They were going to tear shit up.


	4. News (9 years)

**July 13, 2008**

The drunk population of Los Santos was hilarious... at least for the most part. Chrysanthemum found it fun to go out around midnight and screw with whatever unsuspecting victim she stumbled upon. The victims were drunks — alcoholics, and partiers mostly.

Currently the woman that Chrysanthemum was bullying had her face twisted in rage. She was probably twenty-something, and was out for a night with some friends. But Chrysanthemum had found her outside leaning against the wall of a bar, smoking a cigarette. Her purse was on the ground. So, naturally, Chrysanthemum snatched her purse and ran a few meters away from her.

The woman was pitiful, but Chrysanthemum couldn't help a fit of laughter from coming on. The drunk woman was yelling some unbelievably slurred curse words, and was stumbling madly trying to get close enough to Chrysanthemum to get her purse back. A couple of times, she tried to throw items (an empty booze bottle, dirty underwear, a needle, some grass) at Chrysanthemum, but she always stepped calmly out of the way. It was like a real life video game.

She was wearing something quite provocative, Chrysanthemum thought. It was a very short, red dress, with stiletto heels, and a spiked choker around her neck. The woman sort of reminded Chrysanthemum of the women her father would bring home drunk when he stayed out late. Then Chrysanthemum got to thinking, _If he's really into this kind of women, why hasn't he swooped this one away yet?_

But apparently the thought came to soon.

Moments later, her father stumbled out of the bar. He looked pissed about something, but quickly wiped the expression away when he saw the woman in the red dress. However, once he got close enough to the women to see her, he could also see the face of his daughter. A daughter who was supposed to be at home. A wave of rage fell over him, and he screamed loudly at Chrysanthemum.

"What the fuck are you doing here?"

Chrysanthemum didn't say anything, but did finally drop the woman's purse. She had to be ready to run at any second.

"Where the hell is your nanny?"

"She told me she was going out to get something and never came back." she said lowly. "I told you that... remember? You said you'd find another in the morning, but never did — "

"Bullshit!" he yelled.

"I'm not... I'm not... b-bullshitting you, sir. I swear!"

Her father yelled, "Hey! Watch your fucking mouth!" and swung a fist in her direction despite her standing a meter or two away.

And then Chrysanthemum bolted back in the direction of their house.

"Chrysanthemum, get back here this instant!"

But she knew better then to listen. And she ran, and ran, panting, sweating, and crying all the way home until her lungs were dry. She swung the front door open, locked it, and then sprinted up the staircase. There, Chrysanthemum ran down the hallway into her bedroom, and jammed the door shut with a chair. It wouldn't last long, but at least it could buy her some extra time.

And all Chrysanthemum Skelton did in that extra time was cry and cry and cry and cry until there were no tears left in her entire body.

xxxxxxxxxx

 **July 14, 2006**

"Why's your eye blue?" one of the neighbourhood kids asked the next day, poking at the grass underneath his swing with a stick.

"It's purple, actually."

"Well, why's it purple then?" the kid said. "It looks like a bruise, and my mommy said that kids with bruises over their eyes are the ones that get beat up by their parents."

Chrysanthemum just shook her head.

"Why's your nose crooked now?"

"No reason." Chrysanthemum said sadly.

"Why's there cuts on your knuckles?"

"Why's your face stupid?" Chrys retorted angrily. But the kid wasn't fazed.

"Why's your lip split open?"

Chrysanthemum, annoyed, shook her head again, and let her slight swinging fall still. The kid had been bothering her about her injuries for what seemed like ages, and it was beginning to piss her off. If he asked one more time about why her eyes were blue, she might snap.

"You know you can tell me anything, right? Literally anything." he said, the tone in his voice so concerned that it made her sick to her stomach. "I'm listenin'. We're friends, Chrysanthemum. And that's a fact."

"We're not friends." she said bluntly, avoiding eye contact. "I don't know why you're here. Just... please leave me alone."

He sighed, and then jumped off his swing. Chrysanthemum couldn't remember his name, but he looked like a George. "My mommy was right about you... You're strange." And that was that.

"Well..." Chrysanthemum called after him, eyebrows scrunched in thought. "Your mother is stupid."

But he didn't hear her, and Chrysanthemum was secretly glad.

Moments later, Chrysanthemum heard the distinct sound of the screen door being pulled back on the patio. Her newest nanny (who her father had found last night after he'd finished "punishing" her) called out the back, "Chrysanthemum! Lunch!" Then took a drag off of her weird, skinny cigarette that smelt like skunk. Nannies weren't supposed to smoke in the house, but Chrysanthemum didn't tell because the smoke made her woozy and able to forget everything for awhile.

"Coming." Chrysanthemum called back, without a lot of desire to.

Once inside, the nanny shoved a bowl full of mushy soup toward Chrysanthemum. Scowling bitterly, she went and sat herself down at the dinner table, and began shoving heaping spoonfuls of the soup into her mouth. It tasted bland, but Chrysanthemum supposed bland was better than gross.

"Jesus, kid. Slow down." the nanny exclaimed, grabbing a bottle of pills from the very top shelf, and putting a few assorted ones into her hand. "You're gonna choke eating like that..."

Chrysanthemum mumbled something rude under her breath, then shoved another spoonful of soup into her mouth.

"What was that?" the nanny asked, handing Chrysanthemum the pills and sitting down at the table across from her.

"Oh, nothing." Chrysanthemum lied, swallowing the pills with water. "I'm just talking to myself again."

The nanny looked very concerned for a moment. "Do you... um... hear voices?"

Chrysanthemum laughed loudly, and stated, "I'm not schizophrenic. Don't worry about it."

"Where'd you learn a big word like that, huh?" the nanny asked, startled that the kid knew words that big at such a young age. "School teach ya that or something?"

"No, it's called reading book. You should try it sometime."

Before the nanny could discipline Chrysanthemum for being a smart ass, the front door swung open, and she ran to dispose of the joint in the sink. Moments later, her father walked into the room with a smug look on his face. He glanced at Chrysanthemum, wondering why his daughter had a black eye. He never remembered what he did in those drunken rages. But the concern for his daughter didn't last long. He then moved his gaze to the nervous looking nanny.

"We won't be needing your services anymore, Gertrud." he said loudly. "Please get out of here as quickly as possible, alright?" He was the living embodiment of the "all rich people are bastards" stereotype.

After the nanny had stomped out of the room, Chrysanthemum's father went and sat down next to his daughter. She kept looking at the table, but he wasn't demanding eye contact like he usually did. Instead, he hummed happily to the tune of a song she couldn't recognize. There was a silence broken only by his humming, until he spoke about the cuts on Chrysanthemum's face, as if he hadn't noticed them before.

"What happened to your face?" he asked, disinterested clearly. "Was it those neighbourhood kids again?"

Chrysanthemum had once tried to tell him that he had given her the bruises, but he flew into a rage. That was the first time he'd her her while he was sober. So Chrysanthemum just figured that if she wanted him to remain relatively calm, she would have to lie. Just like every other day. Just like every other circumstance.

So that's what she did every time it happened. "Yeah, it was those three boys I was telling you about. The big ones. They used fists and belts..."

And he always believed it. "Damn, we gotta get someone on their asses." But she knew he didn't mean that. Never did, never would. "Did you provoke them or anything?"

Chrysanthemum glanced up, looking at him with eyes full of hurt, and shook her head. "No. Not really."

"I see." he said, but what he really meant to say was, "I doubt it."

They then sat in silence again. The front door slammed as the nanny exited angrily, but that was the only sound for a few minutes. Chrysanthemum's father sat back in his chair, and sighed happily. The goofy smile plastered on his face made Chrysanthemum nervous, but she didn't tell him that she was.

"Why so happy?" she asked.

"So... awhile back, I met someone..." he said carefully, trying to approach what he was going to tell her like the way they did in the movies. "A woman."

Chrysanthemum tried to contain her disappointment, and sighed loudly. She knew where this was going. Him meeting a woman happened at least once every year, and always ended in a breakup. Usually, it was that they'd been cheating on each other the entire time. Then he'd come home, get drunk, and beat Chrysanthemum until he passed out on her bedroom floor. It was a tiring cycle.

"Really?" she asked.

"Yes... and... uh, we met a year ago when she came to Los Santos on a business trip." he said nervously. "So... I thought it might be time to take things with her to the next level."

Chrysanthemum thought, _If he met her a year ago, why's he been going around with other women?_ But she knew the answer all too well. She just didn't want to admit to herself that her father was cheating scum.

"And I asked her to marry me."

Her mouth fell open, and her eyebrows scrunched. He wasn't the marrying type. Especially after his divorce with Chrysanthemum's mother.

"She lives in this town called Bullworth. It's.. uh... pretty far, so we'll be moving there shortly." he said slowly, taking in Chrysanthemum's variety of facial expressions. "There's a place for me to expand my business, and there's a really big house for us to move into. She has a son named Trent, which means you'll have a step-brother. And there's also an academy there as well. One of the toughest schools in the country."

"Sounds... fun." she said sarcastically.

"It is. The school teaches discipline and respect, unlike the one you're in now."

Chrysanthemum frowned, but quickly tried to cover it up with a fake smile. "Where's Bullworth?"

"In Maine."

Chrysanthemum squinted. From California to Maine? That was a long distance to travel for someone you barely knew.

A frown overtook her face.

"So start packing, alright?"

"Yeah. Sure."

"Also make sure to say bye to all of your friends, yeah?" he said, more or less realizing that his daughter was unpopular at school, but not knowing exactly how unpopular she was. "I'm sure they're gonna miss you."

Chrysanthemum shrugged. "Yeah, somehow I don't think that's going to be a problem."


	5. Keeping Tradition Alive (9 years)

**July 21, 2008**

Chrysanthemum took a deep breath in, and stared solemnly at the gigantic house before her. The thing wasn't necessarily bad, but it just seemed... darker than her old house. Sadder. The windows didn't look like they let in much light, and the door looked old and creaky. The basement where Chrysanthemum's room was going to be seemed damp and dingy, but she supposed it was better than having a room upstairs. She didn't want to be near her father.

Chrys has been told to carry boxes for her room down to her room, and also to keep out of the way of the adults. They were carrying things like large furniture, and heavier boxes, so her father told her not to screw around with them. So, like the rule said, she kept out of the way of the adults, and just kept carrying her boxes down the basement stairs.

After the boxes for her room were pretty much done, Chrysanthemum sat on her floor and took a moment to breath a little. Her lungs were dry, and her head hurt a little. She took this small break as a chance to decide where she wanted everything in her room. But the moment didn't last very long, as a minute later her father's loud, booming voice was echoing loudly through the house.

"Chrysanthemum!"

Instantly she shot up, and yelled back, "I'm down here!"

"Come up! The phone's for you."

After scrambling up the stairs as quickly as possible to avoid upsetting the already stressed man, she found him standing in the empty living room. A phone was pressed to his face, and he was speaking like he spoke to Chrysanthemum's brother. She instantly cringed, and took the phone slowly when he handed it to her.

Hesitantly, she pressed the phone to her ear. "Hello?"

"Hey, loser. How's the new house?" Riley, her brother, spat into the phone.

"It's fine. How's mom and her new beau?"

"Shitty as per usual." Riley answered disinterestedly. "Oh, and by the way, her boyfriend Jake left. It's Sam now."

"Oh, nice." Chrysanthemum said sarcastically. "What's this newer one like?"

"He's a real douche. Almost like you, except minus the pill popping."

Chrysanthemum frowned slightly, but quickly retorted, "Well, at least he's not like you. That'd be even worse."

She could hear Riley smile on the other end, and then he said, "Whatever. Have fun in Ballsworth at your academy with all the other "clinically insane" losers. Smell ya later, sister dearest. Hand me back over to dad."

And so Chrysanthemum did.

"Yeah, hey Riley. It's me again. Yeah, yeah... sure. I'll talk to you later, yeah?" _laugh_. "Have a good day. Yup. Love ya. Bye." _beep._ "What did Riley say?"

Chrysanthemum shrugged. "Dunno. Brotherly stuff, I guess. We talked about how my mother is onto her hundredth boyfriend this year. Also he told me I pop pills."

Her father shrugged slightly, "Well that's what Riley's like I guess." And Chrysanthemum was bitter because if she pulled something like that, she'd get hung. "You gonna miss him?"

"No." she said truthfully, but her father took it as a joke.

"Well — " he announced, laughing. "At least you got your step-brother now."

Chrysanthemum seriously doubted she would get along with her new family members, but she supposed she'd have to see. And she didn't have enough time to ponder that, as the next second the door swung open, and in walked a woman Chrysanthemum thought must have been her soon to be step-mother.

The woman have lively blue eyes, and her smile was genuine. Unlike Chrysanthemum's actual mother. But the genuineness of the smile would fade, just like the women before her. And the liveliness in her eyes would die with the love the couple once had. But all of that was extremely depressing, so Chrysanthemum kept it internalized, and just watched. The women seemed awkward as she went to go hug he fiancé, but Chrysanthemum quickly picked up that the awkwardness was from being around children.

After a few tense moments, a stocky boy with bleach blond hair and a toothpick hanging out of his mouth walked through the door. He looked about Chrysanthemum's age, and for that she was grateful. But her gratefulness dropped when Trent's smile dropped when he saw his step-sister. In that moment, Chrysanthemum knew he'd been told something bad about her. She instantly became defensive.

"Hi, I'm Trent." he said awkwardly, looking her over for any warning signs. He'd been told she violently lashed out when someone said something wrong, so he had to be careful. "You're Chrysanthemum, right?"

"Yeah..." she said, holding out her hand for a handshake. "Um... nice to meet you."

Trent didn't shake her hand, but instead turned to look at his mother. "She's weird."

Chrysanthemum's mouth fell open, and she instantly hated him.

"Says you." she snapped, and her father's eyes grew bigger as he could see the comeback coming. "You're the one who looks like an albino."

"Chrysanthemum!" her father yelled, grabbing her by the forearm and violently tugging her closer to me. "You play nice, understand?"

"Why are you telling me that? He's the one who — "

"Don't — "

"No, he's the one who started — "

"Don't interrupt me, young — "

Chrysanthemum pulled her arm from his grasp. "HE IS THE ONE WHO — "

"I SAID — "

"HE. IS. THE. ONE. WHO — "

 _SLAP!_

 _BAM!_

She fell back onto the ground. Chrysanthemum almost subconsciously raised her hand to her cheek to calm the stinging, and looked up at her father with large, terrified eyes. It hurt to get hit by him more when he was drunk, but the emotional scaring when he was sober was worse. He actually knew what he was doing. He had a thought process that lead to Chrysanthemum getting slapped.

Her step-mother and Trent both averted their eyes from the slight, shaking frame on the ground. But Chrysanthemum could still see Trent's eyes. And in them there was a battle going on. _Should I help her up? I don't want to get hit. But she looks so sad._ They almost seemed like they'd witnessed something similar before.

Her father, flicking his hand aggressively to try and get the sting out, was murmuring. "Why'd you make me do that? Why the fuck did she make me do that?"

After the two adults had went upstairs to go deal with some furniture, Trent kneeled down beside her. He seemed awkward about it, but not awkward enough to have never seen something like that before. Chrysanthemum briefly wondered what Trent's other parents had been like.

"Does he... do that a lot?"

Chrysanthemum looked away from Trent, and at the mud stains on the hardwood floor.

Trent then sat down next to her, and joined her in staring at the mud. "My mom's had tons of partners like that. I... I know how you're feeling."

She glanced sideways at him, then said, "He does it a lot, yeah."

"Oh..." he said awkwardly, pushing himself up off the ground.

"Yeah..." she said, mirroring him and standing up as well. Her face still stung, but at least not as much as before. "And I guess in the town of Bullworth, he's gotta keep the tradition alive."


	6. Spectrum (16 years)

**September 7, 2013**

Pinky coughed as smoke wafted in her face, but Chrys just kept smoking.

Gym class sucked. Chrys hated the whole process of it... the twelve minute run at the beginning of class (which the teacher sometimes expanded to a half an hour), the games the class played (usually sports like soccer, cheerleading, and sometimes dodgeball if they were lucky), and then the showers after. Just like the rest of the school, the showers were fucking disgusting. But nothing could ever be as disgusting as Mr Burton.

Burton was the gym teacher. Like gym teachers usually are, Burton was pretty cruel in the fitness department. He worked the students hard and for a long time, then said rude things to them if they couldn't handle the workout. Mostly, the nerds were affected by this, but other students were mixed in there too. Chrys had a few times been yelled at for halting her running to catch her breath, and even the jock Mandy was yelled at a few times. Even though Burton let the girls off easier, he was still rather frightening. But Chrys didn't like to think about the things Burton had done.

More or less, Burton was a perverted, sociopathic moron, so when Pinky said, "You shouldn't be smoking in here, Chrys. Mr Burton's just upstairs." Chrys couldn't have given less of a shit.

"Whatever." Chrys said, shrugging.

Pinky pulled on her Aquaberry sweater, and shook her head disapprovingly. "You know how strict he is. You could get expelled."

"If I was going to get expelled, I would've already been gone by now." Chrys said, conscious that Pinky was aggressively wafting the smoke out of her face. She took one final drag, and chucked the thing in the general direction of the garbage. "I've done a lot worse than smoke in the change rooms."

"Oh yeah? Like what?" Pinky asked, genuinely curious.

"Been arrested, beat up a prefect, kicked Crabblesnitch in the nuts, nearly killed Ernest, beat the living shit out of Algie — "

"Okay okay okay." Pinky said, hands held up in defeat. "Don't listen to me."

Chrys cracked a crookedly beautiful smile, and gathered her things into her locker. "Of coarse I wouldn't. But I don't listen to a lot of people, so don't feel too bad about it."

Pinky smiled back as the pair left the change room together. "I'm trying not to."

After an unfriendly encounter with Ted Thompson where Pinky had to drag Chrys away before she got killed, they exited the building, and waited outside. Chrys, still a little mad from what Ted had said, tried to mentally prepare herself for the wave of preps she could see walking toward them. They were pretty exhausting sometimes, and Chrys didn't like to be around them that much. She supposed Pinky, and Parker weren't that bad, but the others? They were like hell.

Especially Derby Harrington. He was the leader of the clique, and was arguably the worst out of the bunch. Chrys could see him at the head of the herd, walking with his back perfectly straight, and his eyes narrowed.

His blond hair was always groomed to absolute perfection, but his eyebrows were black. Blond hair doesn't equal black eyebrows. Chrys didn't like it, quite frankly. And she supposed she probably spent more time than she should've thinking about Derby and his stupid hair, but it was hard not to. During the summer, she'd spend a lot of time sitting on her roof, and since her and the Harrington's were neighbours... well, she'd see a lot of what they did in the backyard.

Regardless of hair colour, Derby wasn't exactly the nicest boy in the world. Chrys found him tolerable sometimes because he laughed at her jokes, and enjoyed poking fun at Johnny just about as much as she did. Plus, Derby would sometimes invite her to go around Bullworth and make fun of the homeless residents. It was fun sometimes, but Chrys felt a little bad for enjoying it so much. But since Derby didn't think any less of her for doing so, she supposed it couldn't be that big of a deal.

Chrys took a moment to breath before the preps reached them.

"Hello, ladies." Derby said charmingly. "How was gym class?"

Bif Taylor — Derby's gigantic bodyguard — smiled warmly at Chrys when she glanced quickly at him. They had met a long time ago, and Bif had made it _very_ clear that he found her attractive. Sometimes Chrys wondered if he still thought that about her, but he couldn't. Preps can only date inside a certain circle, and Chrys definitely was not in Bif's circle.

"Exactly how you'd expect it to be." Chrys remarked back. She crossed her arms over her chest, and jetted out her hip. "How was... whatever class you had?"

"Fine, I suppose."

Speaking to them now, Chrys remembered that some of the preps didn't speak in a faux British accent. But only a few. The rest, for some weird reason, spoke like that, and Chrys couldn't put her finger on why. She supposed that maybe it was because the accent made them standout and seem more superior. But then again, maybe they were all just extremely insecure about everything.

Which, honestly, made the most sense. Chrys remembered the first time she met Derby, and how everything had went down. Basically, Chrys witnessed Derby almost get slapped by his father. He came back without any emotion behind his smiling expression, and Chrys remembered feeling so broken for the first time because he looked so broken. She knew they both were. So she lead him away from the crowd and the party and the people and to the outside where they climbed onto her roof and sat talking until the adults slowly trickled away.

Derby knew Chrys was remembering back to the time they had met.

"Well, we've got a party to go to."

Chrys, more meaning behind it than she had intended, said, "Don't break anything."

Derby Harrington looked sad for a moment, before the emotion vanished. "We won't."

After watching the preps walk away for a bit, Chrys decided to go find Gary and Pete. She had nothing to do besides a bit of chemistry homework, so it seemed fitting. They were probably in the boys dorm too, so it wouldn't be that hard to find them.

Along the way to the boys dorm, Chrys felt the cigarettes tucked in the waistband of her skirt. Moments later, she swerved left into greaser territory, because the prefects had given up trying to beat the greasers into submission. Anything you did by the auto shop stayed at the auto shop, so really it was the perfect place to do _anything_ at Bullworth. Really, it was a giant hole in the motto "We watch your kids intensely" but whatever. Chrys wasn't complaining.

Leaning up against the wall, she lifted a cigarette to her lips, and lit it. She sucked in the toxic smoke hastily, wanting to get out of greaser territory before a greaser saw her and got mad. Usually, they didn't care about Chrys that much, but at the beginning of the year it was different. They had to let the new kids know what was up. So they'd kick Chrys out just like anybody.

And that's why, when Chrys saw two angry greasers named Johnny and Norton coming her way, her whole body stiffened and she got ready to run.

"Hey! Get the hell outta — oh, hey, Chrys." Norton changed on a dime, his facial expression changing drastically.

Johnny smiled too, "We thought you were a prep. We were gettin' ready to beat your ass."

"I don't really look like a prep." Chrys said.

Norton laughed, "Well clearly I need glasses or somethin'."

" _Clearly_." Chrys mocked.

"Hey, hey, hey, kiddo." Johnny warned, fake anger in his voice. "Don't mess with us, yeah? The greasers'll fuck you up."

"Oh yeah? Bet you two couldn't take me down even if you tried."

"Don't get cocky." Johnny said.

"Why can you be cocky and I can't?" Chrys asked, smiling sharply like a dagger.

"Just the way it is, kid." he smiled, holding out his hand. "Give me a drag."

So Chrys handed the cigarette to him, and he too took a hasty drag.

"You're coming to the party tonight, right?" Norton asked.

"Yeah, yeah." Chrys nodded, smiling. "Gary and that new kid Jimmy are too."

"You should get Pete to come out sometime. I bet he'd be real funny drunk." Johnny laughed.

Johnny Vincent and Derby Harrington were opposites in every sense. First, and most obviously, Derby didn't touch a sip of alcohol, while Johnny drank at any chance he got. Derby didn't smoke, Johnny smoked a pack a day. Derby paid expensive people to do his hair, while Johnny relied heavily on greasing products. Derby grew up in Old Bullworth Vale, a place where the boys were raised like hardened tycoons, and the girls were treated like royalty. Johnny grew up in New Coventry, a place where boys turned too quickly into men, and girls turned into people like Lola. Derby was rich, and Johnny was poor. That's the way the world worked, and if had always been that way.

But, Chrys thought, at least Johnny's eyebrows matched his hair.

Vaguely remembering back to how her and Johnny met, Chrys stood solemnly observing Johnny smoking. She wondered if he liked the taste cigarettes left in his mouth. She wondered how he actually began smoking, or what drove him to it. Like Chrys, for instance, hated the taste they left in her mouth. The only reason she still smoked willingly was because her father had told her not to. Really, it was a little stupid, but she couldn't help it. Any chance to piss her father off was a godsend.

Somewhere off behind them, people began to stir.

Depending on what was happening, the stirring of crowds sounded different. Chrys had noticed it awhile back, and it had basically changed her life. The kind of stir in the crowd presently, Chrys thought it could either be a fight, or some sort of scuffle. Which, Chrys thought, was probably true. Because a few moment later, a member of the bully clique named Davis ran past the trio at full speed.

"Fight." Chrys murmured to herself, before peeking out around the corner.

Jimmy, nearly tackling Chrys, ran around the corner moments later. His face was twisted in anger, so Davis must have done something pretty bad. But whatever it was, it didn't prevent Jimmy from yelling an apology over his shoulder. Something like "Sorry, I didn't see you there!" before continuing on his way. This apology prompted Johnny to raise an eyebrow as he turned to Chrys.

"You know him?" he asked.

"Not very well yet." Chrys said shrugging.

"Uh... is he alright?"

"I guess."

"Just 'I guess'? What did he do?"

Chrys, startled at Johnny's sudden swing, held her hands up in defense. "Nothing, fuck. Excuse me for not formulating a detailed opinion on a kid I met this morning." she huffed slightly, then crossed her arms over her chest. "But... he's a good kid, I think. Seems nice."

Johnny looked lost in a thought, before he shook his head. "Anyway, I gotta go tune up my bike. I'll see you around, yeah?"

"Sure. See you later, Johnny."

"I'll help ya." Norton said to Johnny.

"Okay, I'll see you later too, Norton."

So off toward the boys dorm Chrys went again.

She couldn't really put her finger on it, but being around Johnny and Norton was almost... comforting. It was like something about the two of them was just great to be around. Maybe, Chrys thought as she saw Pete kneeling on the ground trying to push together his fallen papers, it was because they brought back good memories. Or (perhaps good wasn't the correct term) memories of a time when Chrys had less worries.

Now, being sixteen and everything, life sucked. Things made more sense, which meant Chrys thought too much, which lead to anxiety and depression and whatever else. But at least Chrys wasn't being bullied like she used to be. _At least I'm not like Pete._

Stopping abruptly in front of Pete, she cocked her head. He was angrily shuffling all his fallen books and papers into a semi-neat pile. Chrys wondered for a moment if someone had pushed him down. Like maybe he had looked at Trent the wrong way, and Trent lost his cool. Or maybe Pete had just fallen over like the klutz he was. Whatever the reason, Pete looked incredibly pissed about it. That much was apparent when he looked up from his mess, and saw Chrys. His face was twisted in annoyance and anger.

"What do you want?" Pete snapped, teeth gritted. "Come to make fun of me?"

"No." Chrys replied, sighing. She knelt down across from him, and began helping him sort out the papers. "Why do you think I'm always going to?"

"Because you're an asshole, and your torture is endless." he said bluntly.

Chrys cracked a smile, "Well... you're not wrong."

But Pete didn't smile of scoff like he usually would. He, very moodily, kept on shuffling his papers. Once they were in a neat pile, Pete grabbed the ones Chrys had picked up, and began to walk away angrily. However, Chrys (being the pushy individual she was) caught up with him, and wrapped an arm around his thin shoulders.

He was clearly not in the mood, and snapped, "Why don't you just go to hell, okay?"

Chrys rolled her eyes. Pete couldn't insult her if he tried. "Yeah, in case you haven't noticed we're all already there."

"Whatever."

"And besides, it's not like I'm the one who made you drop your papers." she reasoned, as Pete violently shrugged her arm off of his shoulders. "Who did that?"

Pete hesitated. "Uh... Davis."

"Exactly. I'm not Davis, and Davis isn't me." Chrys said, slight anger to her voice. "So, how about you calm the fuck down?"

Pete, annoyed but aware that Chrys was right, didn't say anything. Instead, he grunted, and tried to walk a little faster than Chrys. But she instantly caught up, and he knew he wasn't going to be able to ditch her.

"Don't you have somewhere to be? Something to do?" he asked sourly.

Chrys thought for a moment, "Nope." _pause_. "Which reminds me, do you want to come to a party tonight?"

"No." he said, taking no time in rejecting her offer. "I'm never going to a party with you, or Gary. Ever."

"Why the fuck not?"

Pete looked personally offended, and gawked angrily. _Why not? Why? Not?_ "Because you're a mess, and you drink too much when you're at parties. I saw the aftermath of your last party, and I don't want to deal with that. Especially on a school night."

"Whatever. We'll just have fun without you then." Chrys said.

"Good." Pete retorted.

Chrys, bitter that Pete was bitter, rolled her eyes angrily, and shook her head. "Whatever, man. I'll catch you later I guess. Text me if you find Gary."

"Fine." was the last thing he said before Chrys turned on her heel, and went stomping off toward the girls dorm.

She didn't understand why Pete hated her... well, she did (but only a little). Chrys figured it might've been because of the rude things they said to each other, or maybe the fact that she pushed him around so much. But she wasn't Davis. Chrys didn't shove Pete into the ground and then take off without apologizing. She didn't shove him at all, actually. Even if she did, they were small and weak. But whatever. Pete was a baby and Chrys couldn't let that get into her head again.

Chrys could hear Gary mocking her around it now, and the thought of it made her angry.

 _"He's not worth it, babe. I'm telling you."_ Gary would say. His arm would be wrapped tightly around Chrys' shoulders, as if she might get away.

 _"I know. It just bothers me."_ Chrys would say back.

 _"Ya know... the way you're acting makes it seem like you actually care about him."_ Gary would say dangerously. He got jealous very easily, even if there wasn't anything to get jealous over. _"You like Pete or something?"_

 _"No, Gary. What the fuck?"_ Chrys would retort back angrily.

And a fight would begin, only to be ended by Gary's lips pressed against Chrys'. The conversation happened more often than Chrys liked to admit. Chrys really did care for Pete, but it wasn't in the romantic way that Gary seemed to think.

The recent conversation now a dulled thought in the back of Chrys' mind, she stepped into the girls dorm. Instantly, the incense hit her like a freight train, but she paid no mind to it. Instead, she jumped up the stairs eagerly, and went to her dorm. There, she changed from her uniform into something a little more comfortable. Casual jeans, and a lose sweatshirt. Then, laid down in bed and began to fiddle on her phone.

She wanted to get rested up before the party. Because if she knew the greasers as well as she thought, the party wasn't going to stop until the early hours of the morning.


	7. Two Sides of the Same Coin (9 years)

**August 4, 2008**

She absolutely hated it.

She hated the music. She despised the food. She _hated_ the pretentious snide in their voice when they asked her, "Would you mind a drink? Or maybe some food?" or maybe, "Does your father always drink this much? It's such a surprise that you're still sane."

To which Trent would whisper in reply, popping another cracker with caviar (she seriously doubted he knew what caviar was) into his mouth, "Or as sane as a sociopath could be. Just saying."

The Harrington party was so dumb, and Trent was stupid for falling for the sketchiness of it all.

"You're so stupid." Chrysanthemum snapped, shoving Trent's arm, and sending his cracker flying to the ground somewhere near a guests foot. "Can't you see that the only reason we're here is because Sir Douche over there is wooing some of the guests — "

"I'm telling your dad that you swore."

"Go ahead. I'll tell your mother that you kissed Sammy underneath the pier."

Trent sighed loudly, "Fine, jeez. Truce?"

"Truce, I guess."

 _Crunch. Crunch._

Trent popped another cracker with caviar into his mouth, and Chrysanthemum rolled her eyes exaggeratedly. "You know that black stuff that you're eating is fish eggs, right?"

"Excuse me?"

Chrysanthemum smirked, "You're. Eating. Fish eggs."

"Tell me you're kidding..."

"Nope. You're eating the eggs of a lumpfish."

He gagged, but she could tell Trent was trying to hide that she weakened him, so he politely excused himself and made his way toward the bathroom. His stumbling, hand-over-mouth, and sickly look plastered on his face left Chrysanthemum a laughing mess.

"Actually, Chrysanthemum, the eggs in this particular caviar are from a fish called wild sturgeon." a small voice corrected from behind her, catching her attention in such a startling way that she spun around and was faced by a ginger haired boy too stocky and big to match the voice.

They were standing within such a close proximity that she felt his hot breath on her nose.

"It's much more expensive, and a lot better." he seemed charming, but there was something about him that Chrysanthemum despised. "Name's Bif Taylor, nice to meet you, Chrysanthemum Skelton."

Eyebrow raised, Chrysanthemum took two steps back trying to keep the awkwardness down, but instantly he closed the gap and again she felt his breath on the bridge of her nose. She wanted to shove him away, but she figured that wouldn't be a great idea considering that a few adults behind him had red wine, and that mixed with the off white carpets would surely cause her to get one or two slaps across the face.

She had to figure out how to address this newcomer without seeming too interested so maybe he would leave her alone. She figured that asking how exactly he knew her full name would probably start an unwanted conversation, so she just decided to play it cool and avoid that topic at all costs.

"Nice to meet you too, Bif Taylor."

"How old are you?" he asked awkwardly.

"I'm nine." And that was that.

No question follow up, no interest, no conversation.

"I'm ten."

Or apparently not with him.

Chrysanthemum nodded disinterestedly.

"You're really pretty." Bif smiled, taking a small step toward her.

"Yeah, I know."

He really didn't know what to say to that, and they stood in silence for a moment before two kids Chrysanthemum recognized from around the neighbourhood walked toward them all pretentious. They looked down their noses at the girl they vaguely recognized. The two of them glared at Chrysanthemum for a moment before shifting their gazes to Bif and speaking like she wasn't there to hear them.

"Who's she?" the girl asked, a high-pitched, squeaky voice.

"Is she another one of your friends from the ghetto?" the blond boy asked, arms tucked behind his back, and chest puffed. "Or is she dressed like that on purpose?"

"She's — "

Chrysanthemum snapped, "At least my eyebrows match my hair."

The boy narrowed his eyes at her venomously, and shot his words at her like poison. "Having your eyebrows match your hair is worth having no money?"

"I have plenty of money — " she was shouting now, " — I live in the house next door. Y'know? The _gigantic_ one."

"Gigantic?" he snorted loudly, catching the attention of the person Chrysanthemum recognized to be the head of Harrington household. "I'd call that house barely medium sized."

"I'd call your face — "

"Derby!"

Suddenly, however, Mr Harrington pulled the boy by the arm, apologizing profusely to the guests, and dragged him off into a separate room. Despite her dissatisfaction that she wasn't able to finish her insult, secretly she was glad because it really wasn't all that good of an insult. It was just taking another jab at his appearance, which (she wouldn't admit this to anybody though) was her go to insult if she couldn't think of anything witty on the spot.

Through the cracked open door of the room the Harrington man had taken the Derby boy, Chrysanthemum could see a bit of the scene unrolling. Although she could only see a bit of it, she understood what was going on just the same, and instantly moved to get a better look. Derby was cowering underneath his father's threatening hand, and she wasn't exactly sure, but he could've been hit already. The sheer pain and fear in this kids eyes as he turned toward the door made Chrysanthemum realize how broken he was. How broken she was.

How broken they both were.

So as he wandered back over to them with a fake smile plastered onto his splotchy face, Chrysanthemum smiled sadly, and told him without words to follow her out the door. So he did. And they barely spoke until she was watching him climb through her bedroom window onto her houses roof. There they sat in silence for a few minutes, until she turned to him, and said, with much sincerity, "He do it often?"

To which Derby replied, almost defensively, "Do what often?"

"Hit you." she said.

"Where ever did you get that idea — "

"I've been there, Derby. I mean... I still am. I know what it's like, I know — what you're feeling." Chrysanthemum stated sadlt. She sounded so detached and broken, and Derby knew that they both were. "You know, you don't have to pretend when it's just me. I'm not special or anything. Just someone beat up like you."

Derby seemed to be deep in thought for a moment before he gave his head a little shake and switched his gaze to hers.

"It happens more often than not."

"Did he slap you today?"

"Yeah..."

"Let me see. I know this trick that'll make it feel better." she murmured, placing her hand underneath his chin and turning his head so she could see the red mark radiating with heat. She placed her hand onto the mark gently and held it there, something she had picked up over the years. "Feel better?"

"Yeah, it feels a lot better. Thanks."

There was a long moment of silence where the two just stared at each other in the pinkish light of the setting sun. Underneath her hand, Chrysanthemum felt Derby's jaw set, and he looked away from her gaze long enough that she felt it was okay to take her hand away. Then the two shifted their gazes to the pink, orange, and red tinted clouds, and both breathed heavily. In that moment they were merely coexisting, and at the same time Chrysanthemum felt like they were connected. Maybe they were.

"What's your name?" Derby asked suddenly, shifting so he was facing her and the disappearing sun at the same time.

"Chrysanthemum."

"Chrysanthemum..." he repeated out loud, running his fingers through his hair and blinking back a wave of tears. "Well, Chrysanthemum, I'm going to get you out of here."

"What do you mean?"

"I'm going to get you far away from here. From your father." he said. "I don't care how long it takes, I'll take you far away from here. We can make it together."

She smiled sadly and shook her head, trying to keep the wave of tears so eagerly trying to escape down. "That's just a dream..."

"Everything starts out as just a dream."

"How inspirational." Laughing, she wiped a tear off her cheek and felt a wave of warmth come over her as Derby wrapped his arm around her shoulders.

"Seriously though. I will get you out of here."

She stuck out her pinky finger.

"Promise?"

Derby wrapped his finger around hers.

"Promise."

xxxxxxxxxx

 **August 5, 2006**

A cloud of booze hung in the air in a thick cloud. There were bottles of vodka laying on the ground, a rum stain spreading through the plain carpet, and there was screaming. So much screaming that Chrysanthemum couldn't even understand what either of them were saying anymore. To her and Trent, it sounded like land mines going off, or maybe even like the loud clank of a rifle as it recoiled.

Anything but screaming.

It was just past midnight when Chrysanthemum heard the first crash, and then a distinct _slap!_ that seemed to echo through the silent house. She knew exactly what was going on downstairs. Her father was drunk and her step-mother was defending herself against his rage, but for some reason Chrysanthemum felt an urge to travel down the stairs to the living room. Within moments she heard Trent galloping down the stairs, and then the two stood in the doorway, in awe about how much of a mess the two had made despite only one of them being drunk.

Chrysanthemum looked to a broken vase on the ground, and cocked her head to one side. She remembered making that vase, and was damn well proud of it even though it was crooked and jagged in some places. She remembered spending hours in her ceramics class making that vase, smoothing it, and fixing it when it broke so that maybe her father would be proud of something she did. She remembered how she clutched onto the vase a little too desperately and shook her head no when her teacher asked to put it up in an art show. But most of all Chrysanthemum remembered taking the thing home so carefully and placing it on the front shelf and waiting all night to see his reaction just for it to be ignored.

She didn't think it was fair that she'd spent so long building something up, and something so small and insignificant could cause her entire world to come crashing down. And the thing she had slaved over for so long just sat there shattered on the ground, unable to fix itself, dust itself off, and keep on keeping. So in defence of something so helpless and sad, Chrysanthemum took a deep breath in, and out, in, and out, then went bolting toward her father in a mad chase.

"YOU BROKE IT! YOU BROKE IT!" she slammed her fists against his back, against his side, then his chest. "YOU BROKE ME! YOU. BROKE. IT!"

"WHAT ARE YA KIDS DOING OUT OF BED?" was all her father had to yell in response, and he shoved Chrysanthemum off with his drunken fuelled rage. "Get back to bed! Both of you!"

"YOU BROKE IT!"

"Broke what? Your stupid little vase?" he sneered loudly, stumbling toward her slowly. "Nobody fucking liked it anyway. It's uneven, and poorly glazed. It's just ugly."

"Steve! Leave her the fuck alone!" her step-mother hollered. "I'm sorry you're angry, but you have to calm down!"

But her father ignored everyone.

"STEVE! GET AWAY FROM HER!"

And _SLAP!_ Chrysanthemum's cheek flooded with warmth as his hand made contact with her face. Then there was another rush of blood as his other hand made contact with her face. And then another, and another, until her face was practically the same heat as the surface of the sun. Then, almost as if something had possessed her for a moment, Chrysanthemum stood up quickly from the ground and stomped on his foot.

"You fucking bitch — "

"No! You know what, sir?" she sneered condescendingly, shoving him backwards. " _FUCK. YOU._ "

And that was that.

Chrysanthemum took a calm step aside to avoid a beer bottle that had been drunkenly tossed at her head, and stuck her middle finger high into the air when her father yelled something inaudibly slurred after her. Then, with tears streaming down her cheeks, spun on her heel and ran out the front door, down the street, past several police men not really doing their job, and then down underneath a spray painted underpass where she stopped to catch her breath.

She saw a sign a little while back that said she was in New Coventry (a district of Bullworth she recognized because her father had warned her of the "type" of people who lived there). But despite her father's warnings she didn't care.

She was so angry at him, and angry at herself, and angry at Trent for just standing in the doorway. She supposed she shouldn't have been angry at anyone but her father's poor self control, and maybe also Trent's cowardliness if she was feeling extra angry, but for whatever reason most of her angry was directed at herself. It was directed at the fact that she let it happen — she let herself get carried away, and then ultimately let herself turn into exactly what her father was for a few moments...

Unpredictable.

Chrysanthemum... was her father for a moment, and that made the urge to throw herself off a building grow even stronger. And she figured that the only reason why she hadn't yet was because she was holding onto Derby's promise a little too desperately. She knew how ridiculous it seemed, though. But Chrysanthemum still hoped, and hoped, and dreamed, and wished, and even goddamn prayed because oh my god she hated her father so much. She... hated — herself so much.

"Hey girly, your nail break or something?" someone hollered.

His friend replied in response, "Yeah, looks like someone's been doing a little too much cardio for her manicured tastes."

Chrysanthemum stayed silent, and shot them both a nasty glare.

One of them, presumably the one who started it all, snorted and shouted, "Whatever, girly. Watch your back..." And then the two shadows faded off into the deeper, darker shadows without a trace.

Chrysanthemum crossed her bare arms over her chest, and shivered. Without a jacket, and wearing nothing but a tank-top and thin flannel pants, the summers night seemed colder. It wasn't necessarily, but her fatigue mixed with everything else, she just felt the need to slide down the wall behind her and draw her knees right up to her chin. So she did. Chrysanthemum sniffed the tears away, pressing her hand to her cheek despite the fact that she was too distracted for it to actually work.

Shame washed over her as she realized how pathetic she must have looked. Sitting with her knees drawn up to her chin, cheeks red, eyes puffy, and shivering underneath an overpass passed midnight. Everything hurt, though, and honestly Chrysanthemum decided she shouldn't care because she was hurting and who the hell would anybody else be to judge her?

"Hey, girrrlly? Remember how I told you to watch your back?" the familiar voice echoed through the darkness, and Chrysanthemum's head popped up. She wasn't prepared for what she saw next: four or five middle schoolers. "Well, now that bit of advice becomes valid. Bitch."

The next thing Chrysanthemum knew she felt a fist making contact with the bridge of her nose, and she quickly recovered. Within moments she pounced onto the smallest middle schooler. She punched, and punched, and growled, and yelled, and punched, over and over and over again. Underneath her fist she felt his face get wetter, but she didn't actually stop punching until someone grabbed onto the back of her shirt and yanked her up off of the one she was beating.

 _BAM!_

 _SMACK!_

 _CRACK!_

She felt her nose crunch underneath the heavy fist of the biggest one, and yelped. There was blood running down her mouth, and chin, but Chrysanthemum didn't care. She kneed him right in the crotch, and smirked as he groaned. Tears just barely leaking out of his eyes, he yelled some sexist slur, then proceeded to swing his fist again so hard that it sent Chrysanthemum flying down to the ground.

Nose bleeding heavily, eye swollen, bruises fresh, and joints scratched, Chrysanthemum laid underneath the menacing shadow of the guy and wished she could make it out of it alive. For once in her life she wanted to go back home and lay down in her bed. She wanted to see Trent's face one last time. She prayed that even if these kids did kill her, someone like a police officer would find her body rather than some lonely kid wandering the alleyways. She didn't want that. She didn't want to die.

She was only nine.

She prayed to someone up there that might be able to hear her. God hadn't done anything for her before, but maybe just this once He would. Maybe He would send her a guardian angel or something like that. Chrysanthemum wasn't sure how it worked since she hadn't read the Bible, but she hoped it would go down something like that.

She was only nine.

So young, so naive, so much to live for.

She prayed.

She was only nine.

She's nine.

"What the fuck?" a voice yelled, and the unfamiliar voice struck fear into the middle schoolers hearts. "Leave 'er alone!"

For a moment the biggest kid stood his ground against his opponent, but when a stressed shuffle came from behind Chrysanthemum's head, the kid spat onto her and then scurried off. She didn't stand up to see her saviour for a moment, but when she finally pressed her swollen knuckles against the concrete and pushed herself up, she came face-to-face with someone her father had called trouble. He was both feared and respected among a various amount of kids, so she wasn't sure how to feel exactly. Instead, she just raised her eyebrow and cocked her head to one side.

"What's up, buttercup? Cat got your tongue?" he asked, sweeping his brown hair out of his face and eyeing her injuries, then looking at the kid who was still laying on the ground. "Name's — "

"Johnny Vincent." Chrysanthemum finished, coming off as creepy more than anything, but he knew his popularity throughout Bullworth. "Yeah, I know."

There was a moment of silence before Johnny asked, "Well, what's your name?"

"Chrysanthemum Skelton."

"Chrysanthemum Skelton... Chrysanthemum Skelton... I don't like it. You wanna roll with me, you gotta have a cool nickname, yeah?" Johnny asked, more to himself than anyone else, but Chrysanthemum still nodded in agreement despite her doubts. "How about... uh — Chrysanthemum... Chrysanthemum... How about you go by Chrys?"

"Chrys..." she let it roll off her tongue, and something felt right. "Yeah, yeah, sure."

"Well, Chrys, how about you and me spend a little quality time together? You wanna roll with my gang, you gotta pass a test or two first." he smiled, devilishly. Johnny saw a future of mischief with this girl. "Alright, first order of business: I gotta get some money, alright? But since neither of us can get jobs, and the police are dumb I say we find... other ways of gettin' money."

Chrys narrowed her eyes. "What have you got in mind?"

"Robbing the convenience store down on 95th, yeah?"

Despite Chrys' past of mischief and unruliness, she had never actually done anything majorly illegal. Sure, she had blown up a few garbage cans with fire crackers, but that only landed her a stern warning from police, and a mark of vandalism on her permanent record.

 _Well,_ she thought, _there's a first time for everything._

"I'm in." she replied, wiping her hand along underneath her nose to catch any blood that was running onto her lips. "How's this gonna go down?"

Johnny looked around himself for a moment, searching for something on the ground. After a few seconds, he locked eyes on a bag of garbage, and rifled through it until he found what he was looking for. Potato bags. From the trash. He handed one to Chrys, and pulled his own over his head

"Smells bad, but it'll stop us from gettin' caught." he said. "We'll only have them on for a bit."

"... Okay..." she said, pulling the thing over her head.

And when they reached the store, they ran into the thing at warp speed.

"GIVE US ALL YOUR MONEY!" Johnny shouted at the cashier, holding a small Swiss Army knife up.

Despite the size of the robbers and the size of the weapon he was being threatened with, the cashier still held up his hands in defeat and widened his eyes. Robberies weren't anything new in his life — there had been so many in the past week that he didn't even bother trying to keep track of what had been stolen — but something about the weapon aspect of it gave him a shiver. The cashier had never been threatened with a weapon before, and this completely overrode the size of the robbers.

So he opened the register.

"PUT ALL OF IT INTO THE BAG!"

"WE'RE NOT... F—FUCKING AROUND. PUT IT IN!" Chrys shouted, opening a small plastic bag she had found of the shop and holding it up to him. "HURRY!"

Moments later, the pair found themselves fleeing the scene with a relative large sized bag bouncing behind them. Panting heavily, throwing their masks to the ground, and then turning into an alleyway a few blocks away from the robbery scene. There the two leaned up against a wall sweating and cursing at themselves for letting their fear get the best of them. Despite that, and despite everything Chrys had been through in the past hour, she cracked a smile at Johnny, which caused him to smile, and then before either of them knew it, they were sitting on the ground laughing and sorting through the bag with smug expressions.

"Johnny Vincent, we've done it." Chrys stated triumphantly, sweeping a mat of sweaty hair off her forehead. "We just robbed a shop."

"Fuck yeah we did." he responded equally as triumphant. "How much did we get?"

"About eighty dollars."

"Oh hell yeah! Give me a high five."

 _Clap!_

"I can't believe we just did that." she said quietly, running her fingers through her hair. Chrys supposed she should've felt guilty about stealing, but for some reason she didn't. "We... we just stole, and I don't feel guilty about it."

"You've never stolen anything before?" Johnny asked, and he raised his eyebrow when she shook her head no. "I have a hard time believing that."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"You just... seem like the type, I guess."

"Me?" Chrys laughed loudly, clasping onto her stomach as if that would help the joyful pain stop. "Yeah, yeah... whatever. My father would have my head."

"Couldn't you just pull the "I'm only a kid" card?"

Chrys had tried that once, and it ended with her sitting on the bathroom floor bleeding from pretty much everywhere, so she decided that maybe it would be in her best interest to never ever try to pull that card again. But she decided she couldn't tell Johnny that, so she merely just shrugged her shoulders and smiled weakly.

And the way Chrys was looking at him, Johnny could tell that she was hiding something big. The way she was smiling with only half of her mouth, staying quiet because she didn't want to say anything, but really had so much to say reminded him of someone important in his life: his father.

He had always stayed silent when Johnny would come home all beaten up because he had accidentally ticked off some high school students in Blue Skies. He had always smiled half heartedly when Johnny told a joke to try and lighten the mood as his mother stormed off in a jealous rage. He had always stayed silent when the men hollered about the bruises when he walked down the street. He had always smiled weakly at them, pretending that it didn't bother him because once when he was younger his father had told him that anger and standing up for yourself was unattractive. Johnny's father had always stayed silent when anybody asked how he got his bruises. And above everything else, he stayed silent when Johnny's mother would hit and yell at him in her drunken rages.

"He beats you, doesn't he?" It was blunt, but at least he didn't have to tiptoe around it.

"Doesn't matter."

She seemed so sad and so distant, and Johnny instantly got defensive because he didn't want her to turn out like his father. Dismissing issues as big as beatings made people get soft, and the softness mixed with the abuse caused issues that ran way too deep for anything to ever fix it. If Johnny wanted to stop the issues before they began, he decided that he'd have to convince her that it was bad what her father was doing, and merely brushing it off wouldn't help anybody but the abuser.

"It does matter and you know it does."

"Okay, maybe it does for some people, but I'm different." she countered, squinting her eyes at Johnny in such a pathetic, vulnerable way that Chrys knew he had won the argument before the argument had even started.

She was just so fucking tired.

"You're not different. You're a person, and people have feelings. So you're valid."

Chrys bit her lip and shook her head. "My feelings don't make sense anymore."

"That doesn't mean they're not valid." Johnny stated. "That sadness that your feeling — I get it, okay? I've seen it, and it's not good. It's never good. The pain and all that stuff just gets piled up and compressed until it explodes and then you don't know who you are anymore. You turn into someone you never thought you'd be."

Sure, Chrys understood where he was coming from. The anger part made sense because she had seen it happen to her father after he divorced her mother, and he had turned into someone he wasn't before. He used to be nice before all the drinking, the unreliable women, and before Chrys had been diagnosed with anxiety. People change, and Chrys understood that. She was more or less mad at him for changing, but she supposed she couldn't be because it wasn't really his fault he was an alcoholic. But at the same time Chrys wanted to tear his head off every single time he laid a finger on her because she had spent so much time building up her walls so that nothing could touch her precious heart, and he could just shatter them within seconds.

Chrys didn't understand how she felt.

Her feelings were so much more complex than anybody else she had ever met, and she figured it was probably because there was so many different things coming from so many different angles. But it was so much easier just to default to anger rather than trying to figure everything out. It shouldn't have been possible for so much anger, and confusion, and sadness, and disappointment, and hope to occupy such a tiny body, but there Chrys was. Sitting there next to Johnny Vincent nowhere near the closest body of water, but still feeling the inevitable feeling of drowning.

Instead of getting mad at him or telling him to go away like she usually would if some random kid confronted her about her issues, Chrys just sniffed back tears and placed her head onto his shoulder. Defeated and pathetic, but mostly just confused. In the faint light of the streetlights, Johnny Vincent placed his arm around her trembling body and sniffed back tears too. They were both vulnerable — two kids just fucked up by life and then thrown to the curb without so much as a "How do you do?" There were sirens somewhere in the distance, but neither of them cared.

"Do you want to stay at my house tonight?"

Johnny's voice seemed loud and booming in the deathly silence, but somehow Chrys had never felt more comforted.

"I don't want to go home."

It wasn't an answer, but Johnny knew what it meant.

Chrys cried a lot during the walk back to Johnny Vincent's house, but never again.


	8. Alcohol (16 years)

**September 8, 2013**

"So... wait..." Chrys said slowly, her breath heavily tainted with vodka and whiskey. "Your mother — sleeps around? And she's married how many men?"

Jimmy hiccuped, and took a long swig of his beer before he answered. "She's been married something like thirty times. Including my dad."

Chrys cringed, and sighed, "Yeah, I feel you. My mother was whoring around before I could even open my mouth to speak."

"Really?"

"Yeah... and she — " _hiccup,_ " — has married substantially less than your mother, but still quite a bit." Chrys paused, then shook her head. "I think she's the reason why Riley has girl issues..."

Jimmy was searching his brain, trying to remember if he'd met anyone named Riley. "Wait... who's Riley?"

"My brother... uh — full brother."

"Does he live with you?"

Chrys, drunk and (not directly, but from being around people smoking) high, laughed a little. She'd forgotten that Jimmy was new, and that he didn't know anything about her. It was funny. Funny because he was asking questions she hadn't been asked in a long time, but also not funny because she was reliving bad memories.

"Nah. He lives in Los Santos with my wasp of a mother, and her asshole of a boyfriend... fiancé? Ah, who the fuck knows at this point."

Somewhere in the distance, louder than the booming music, people were fighting. It started out as a dull roar, and then the voices hit her all at once. One of them sounded familiar, and when Gary rounded around the corner, she knew it must've been him.

He looked pissed, and with good reason. There was a bleeding gash on his upper lip, and there was blood on his knuckles. The fight must've been pretty okay, but Chrys didn't pay attention to him as he flopped down on the couch next to her. Usually, after fights he didn't like to be babied. Especially by Chrys. It was a pride thing, so Chrys absolutely had to respect that.

"What're you guys talking about?" Gary asked loudly.

"Mom's." Jimmy said vaguely, also very slurred. Chrys nodded in undoubted agreement.

"What about mom's?" Gary probed, and quite obviously. But both Jimmy and Chrys were too drunk to notice.

"About how shitty they are."

Gary looked over to Chrys, and nodded. She knew how messed up Gary's parents were. In fact, they were so messed up, that Chrys was surprised Gary hadn't come out of that home... more weird that he was. Like for instance, Gary's dad. He was thrown into prison when Gary was seven for murder charges. This fucked up Gary's mother too, and she essentially lost her mind. She hit Gary now. And when she wasn't hitting him, she was yelling slurs and curses at Gary like nobody's business.

They were awful, and especially to Gary. So it was no surprise that Gary didn't say anything when Jimmy asked what his parents were like. "Bad." he said, and left it at that.

"Also..." Jimmy slurred, eyes squinted. "What happened to your mouth?"

Gary, eyes narrowed, frowned. "Do you mean the cut?"

"Yeah..."

"A couple of townie's got me." Gary shrugged nonchalantly, seeing how Chrys instantly rose up at the mention of a townie. He quickly put a hand on hers. "It's fine, though. Nothing I can't handle."

"Which townie was it?"

Gary shook his head, "Doesn't matter."

Chrys shoved him a little, and gritted her teeth. "Yes, it does."

Rolling his eyes, Gary wrapped a tight arm around Chrys' shoulders. She liked to fight when she was drunk sometimes, and Gary didn't need her going to prison for murdering some townie kid. "It was Duncan... but I'm fine." he assured, and Chrys believed him, leaning into his body. "So, Jimmy... how're you liking Bullworth so far?"

"Meh." was all he said, and left it at that.

"Only "meh"?" Chrys was beginning to bother Jimmy about his answer, when a drunken teenager stumbled out from the crowd and yelled,

"Hey, Chrys..." Norton slurred, nearly falling flat onto his face. "You... wanna — " _hiccup._ " — have a drink off... with me? Nobody else wants to..."

"Why not?" Chrys screeched.

When she was offended or questioning something while drunk, her voice did this screechy, high pitched end to all of her sentences. But only when she was drunk. Gary figured it must've been because Chrys oppressed it when she was sober, but he found it cute. Especially when she was tucked neatly into his side, her whiskey tainted breath rolling down his front. So, it wasn't a surprise Gary protested when Chrys went to stand up.

"Hey, hey... where're going?" he asked.

"To a drink off... to win." Chrys answered.

Gary looked dangerous for a moment, but this time Chrys wasn't drunk enough to let the look slide.

"What're you looking at me like that for?" she asked.

Gary shrugged nonchalantly, wiping the expression off his face within milliseconds. "No reason, babe. Go. Have fun." then added, "Especially with your hangover in the morning." under his breath.

But Chrys didn't hear that part, and stumbled off into the crowd behind Norton.

As she reached the drink off table, greasers all around began to shoot and whoop. They got rowdy when they were drunk, and especially during competitions of any kind. So, Chrys (feeling extra unruly on account of her state) screamed along with them, nearly bursting every ear drum on the floor.

Norton glanced at her, smiling, and said, "Okay, are you ready?"

"Hell yeah."

"Ready, set... GO!"

And the glasses starting clinking.

That night, Chrys chugged three fifths of alcohol all by herself and everyone around her was too busy cheering to wonder how empty she must've been to do it.


	9. Early Morning (16 years)

**September 9, 2013**

"Chrys, be quiet." Gary snapped.

"Remember when Johnny fell out of his chair?" Chrys was laughing, and was draped heavily around Gary's shoulders. If she let go, Gary had no doubt she would fall flat on her ass and pass out. "Gary, baby, that was so funny! Why aren't you laughing?"

"It's four in the morning, and if we make too much noise a prefect is going to find us."

"Oh, fuck... Jimmy — J... Jimmy!" Chrys said trying to be quiet but failing miserably. "Shush! We gotta be — " she placed her forefinger to his lips sloppily, " — we gotta be quiet..."

Jimmy, who was nearly blackout drunk, nodded absentmindedly. One thing that Gary liked about Jimmy was that he was a quiet drunk. When Chrys was drunk, she was loud. That lead to her becoming the life of the party in most cases, and Gary was very much the opposite. Granted, when Gary did get pretty smashed he could party hard, but only after several beers and a few shots of gin. That's where Gary and Chrys differed, but he liked her anyway.

Another thing about Chrys was she got almost incapable of functioning herself. She could barely walk, as evidence by her weight on Gary's shoulders. She couldn't speak properly, and stuttered more often than not. She changed from hating some people to tolerating them, and that was almost dangerous in terms of keeping her reputation up as the Bullworth psychopath. She more often than not didn't know what she was doing, and that night wasn't an acceptation.

Chrys had absolutely no idea where she was. Well, maybe she knew the general area, but Gary didn't trust her to be able to get back to her dorm before a prefect saw her. So, Gary told Jimmy to meet him back at the boys dorm, and slowly made his way toward the girls dorm with Chrys. She was murmuring again, but this time it was something about her dorm. Gary figured the "My room is... is... u — up..." meant her room was on the top floor. So, groggily, Gary dragged his girlfriend to her dorm room.

After a messy travel up the dorm stairs, Gary found Chrys' room. Her roommates were sleeping soundly, so Gary plopped her onto the bed as quietly as possible and went to leave. However, when Chrys saw Gary dark blob leaving she said, "Wait, wa — it... Gary." And sat up slowly.

"Yeah?" he whispered back, cocking an eyebrow.

"Will... y — you stay the... night with me?"

"What?"

"I'm cold." she said.

Gary thought about it for a moment, then replied, "Cuddle your blankets then."

Chrys shook her head, and Gary couldn't see her expression in the darkness. "No. I want... I want... you."

In the darkness, Chrys heard a sigh, and then Gary's figure moved until it was laying next to her. She smiled goofily, and laid down with her head on his chest. Gary's arms snaked around until they were wrapped around her body, and instantly felt how warm she was. Cocking an eyebrow, Gary said, "I thought you were cold." To which Chrys replied, "I lied." And then fell silent again.

After awhile, all Gary could hear was the sound of Chrys' faint breathing, and the new sound of rain pelting the window.

xxxxxxxxx

It was around seven in the morning when he prefects came knocking on doors, yelling, "Wake up girls! Breakfast is ready in the cafeteria!"

Chrys had woken up alone in the room, with no sound other than the rain hitting the window. Her hangover was pounding and painful, but honestly she didn't regret a thing. Chrys didn't remember much from the night before, but what she did remember was having fun, and that was all the mattered, really. Plus, the classes she had that day were classes that required no actual intelligence to pass, so she was pretty alright.

After about ten minutes of procrastinating getting out of bed, a prefect swooped into the room and, once again, yelled, "Skelton — get your lazy ass up!" And proceeded to stand over Chrys until she was uncomfortable enough that she would get up. Chrys hated the prefects. And she made that quite clear with the dirty look she flashed the woman as she stood up to go get changed.

But no matter how hard the prefects pushed, Chrys wasn't going to wear her uniform that day. It was a lazy day no matter what happened, so Chrys pulled on a new pair of jeans, and old hoodie. The prefect was visibly disgusted by Chrys' outfit, but she didn't care, and left the dorm with a new found confidence that only someone lazy looking can understand. Chrys found Pete along the way to the cafeteria, and walked with him until they found Jimmy. Then, the three ran into the main building and tried to get all the water out of their clothes.

"Shitty that it rains on your second day, huh?" Chrys said to Jimmy, wringing the sleeve of her hoodie out onto the ground.

"Yeah, I guess." Jimmy shrugged, also clearly hungover. "It's better than snow, though."

Pete quickly agreed, and said, "Yeah, snow and Bullworth don't mix well."

"Why not?" Jimmy inquired.

Pete was about to shake his head, but Chrys interjected. "He's saying that because he always gets snowballs thrown at his head. Always. Without fail."

"Do you have to tell everybody?" Pete asked loudly, anger dancing on his tongue.

"First, I don't tell everybody. Second, yes I do because Jimmy deserves to know." Chrys snapped back.

"Whatever. Let's go get some food."

Chrys snorted, "Petey, man, I don't think you can even call it food."

Pete, still visibly angry, loosened up a bit, and smiled. "Yeah, no kidding. Welcome to Bullworth, Jimmy, everything is awful here."

Chrys interjected, "Awful doesn't cut it. It's worse."

"No kidding."

After the hassle to get into the line for food, and find a table, the trio sat down. The table was far enough away from the cliques that they wouldn't be aggravated, but not far enough away to single themselves out as trying to avoid them. The power dynamics were strange in the cafeteria, and neither Pete nor Chrys wanted to get Jimmy in a fight so early in the year. So, they had tried their absolute hardest to find the perfect table, even though Chrys had to scare away a couple of kids before they could do so.

After a few minutes, Gary found them. He seemed bitter about something as he sat down, but Chrys didn't mention it.

"Edna's really outdone herself with this... um... meat? I think..." she said.

Gary nodded in agreement, silently poking at his food with his fork.

Pete put a spoonful of the vegetables in his mouth, and gagged, spitting the lump of brownish/greenish shit onto his napkin. "Somebody ought to get food poisoning from this crap one day, then she'll get fired, and maybe they'll hire a descent cook."

"Yeah, hopefully one of those steroid pumped morons takes the bullet for us." Chrys said, putting down her fork, and shoving the tray away from her. She wanted to eat, she really did, but the stuff smelt horrible and looked horrible and apparently tasted horrible. "This food is such bullshit."

Pete too pushed his tray away and slumped back into his chair. "Why is it so bad this year? It wasn't even that bad last year."

"Edna's probably using last years meat." Gary commented, sniffing the meat on the end his fork before deciding against putting the potentially poisonous food into his mouth. But suddenly his eyes shifted dangerously, and there was a hint of adventure as he said, "Hey, do you guys wanna have some fun?"

Pete's facial expression shifted from disgust to horror in a mere few seconds. "What you count as fun and what I count as fun are not the same." he said.

"Well of course not... you're a goddamn bitch." Gary snapped.

"Anyways — " Chrys said, laughing slightly but trying to chill Gary out, " — what's the fun you have in mind?"

Jimmy was glaring at Gary for his comment, but Chrys could tell that the curiosity was still there. "Yeah... what it is?" he asked, his voice angry.

"I was thinking that we could go out and torture somebody helpless and unfortunate." he said slowly, eyes darting around like a maniac. Pete then mumbled something under his breath. "Sorry, what was that?"

"I said, of course that's his idea of fun." Pete snapped loudly, causing a few of the nerd clique to glance sideways at the table. But they knew their place. Anything over a few seconds and Chrys would go over there and give them a reason to cry. "You've gotta be a sadist..."

"Fucking... anyways!" Chrys gritted her teeth, eyes venomous and narrow. "The helpless person you're thinking is that old homeless guy, right?"

"Yes. So are you guys in?" Gary asked, a hint of excitement to his voice.

Chrys glanced at Jimmy, who shrugged and nodded. "Yeah, sure." he said.

"Yeah, I guess I'm in too." Chrys said, wrapping an arm around Gary's shoulders. "What're we gonna to do the old man, huh?"

Gary shrugged. "How about you, Petey? You should be glad it's not you getting bullied for once."

"If you're not bullying me, it has to be someone else. Is that it?"

Gary pondered that for a moment, then nodded. "Yeah, seems about right."

Pete was staring in disbelief at Gary, but quickly softened a little when Chrys smiled half-heartedly at him. As much as he hated Chrys sometimes, there were moments when she felt like a genuine person. That genuineness made him feel a lot better, and so he agreed slowly. "Yeah, I'm in... but only if we won't get in trouble."

"We won't, Petey." Gary sighed.

"Yeah, true. Petey, look at who you're rolling with." Chrys said as the four of them stood and began to leave the school. "We're like... the "get-away-from-detention-free-card" group."

"You've had detention more times than I can count." Pete cocked an eyebrow, smiling.

"Shush... don't worry your pretty little head about that."

"I'm worryin'."

xxxxxxxxxx

The old man lived in a clearing behind an old school bus just right of the auto shop. He, like many of Bullworth's homeless population, was violent and angry and at the slight of teenagers would lash out. It wasn't uncommon for the homeless to get warrants for beating kids half to death (or trying to). Although, they often got let off with warnings from the police because they were found high or drunk or a combination of the both, and therefore "weren't responsible" for their actions.

The man who lived on Bullworth grounds wasn't an exception of this trend. He, like every other homeless person, hated teenagers. Chrys didn't know if it was called for or not, but it definitely sent a chill through Chrys' spine every time she heard a kid yelp out in the middle of the night because they accidentally wandered too close to his den. Or provoked him enough that he screamed and yelled until the kid ran away.

Chrys wasn't a stranger to this kind of violence either, and had often been yelled at or hit by the man behind the school bus. Once, when she was younger and still friends with Lola, the two had snuck into his clearing just to see what all the fuss was about. They hadn't been there for a minute before the old man came out from the shadows yelling and screaming about how dumb kids were. He then proceeded to throw things at them, one of which (a brick, which left a massive scar on Chrys' forearm) hit them. The man was absolutely insane. And that, along with the mildewy stench, made Chrys incredibly uncomfortable.

Once the four were in the small clearing, Chrys could feel the tension building in the air. Gary, who hadn't ever experienced the man's wrath, was completely unfazed by it, and was actually rummaging through his things. And Jimmy, who was new in Bullworth and had no idea what to expect, stuck close to Chrys. But Pete and Chrys, both of which had experienced some physical trauma as a result of him, stood a bit back and mumbled to each other. Chrys trying to lighten the mood, and Pete turning down all her jokes.

Suddenly, Gary turned around and said, "Huh... where the hell is this dirty, old perv?"

Pete furrowed his brow, and pointed an accusing finger at Gary's chest. "You're not very nice, Gary."

"And you're a loser, Petey." Gary's voice had shifted from a tone of question, to a tone of malice in under a second, which wasn't uncommon but still startled Chrys every time he did it. "One of life's unfortunates."

For a moment, everything and everyone was silent. Gary's words hung in the air, and Chrys swore the tension in the air was enough to make her head explode. But the thought came to quickly, and suddenly there was a loud, hoarse grunt that came from behind Jimmy and Chrys. Then, something hard and painful hit the back of Chrys' calf, and she turned to be faced with the old, violent man. He was holding a brick in one hand, and there was another brick near Chrys' feet.

"Fucking c'mon!" Chrys snapped, turning to run toward Gary and Pete.

But before she could, the old mans nasty hand gripped tightly onto her arm. Chrys, beginning to panic in a way she hadn't ever before, struggled to get free from his grasp. His eyes were narrowed and suspicious as he screamed something like, "FUCKING KIDS CAN'T LEAVE WELL ENOUGH ALONE!" And eyed the scar on Chrys' arm that he distinctly remembered giving to her all those years ago. "WHY'D YA COME BACK, HUH? DIDN'T LEARN WELL ENOUGH THE FIRST TIME?" he screamed.

Chrys was on the brink of a panic attack. Her breath was speeding to hyperventilation. Her heart was racing so fast she thought it might jump from her chest. Her hands were so sweaty, and her thoughts were so foggy she couldn't think straight. Several strings of messy thought were intertwining in a tangle of inconceivable proportions, and all Chrys could hear was her breathing. And that was too loud. She couldn't even hear herself think.

Another few moments passed, and Chrys finally had an idea. Not a brilliant one, but enough that the man would have to let go. So, she swooped down quickly, picking up the brick. Then, a few milliseconds later, threw the brick directly at the man's crotch. As Chrys fall backwards onto the ground, the man let out a few heavy grunts, and doubled over. He cringed heavily as the warmth radiated throughout his lower abdomen in several painful bursts. Now, he was more pissed than anything. Which was apparent when he stumbled toward Chrys' shaking frame again, eyes full of rage.

But before he had time to get close to her, Jimmy socked the man directly in the jaw. And Chrys, regaining her calmness, went and kicked the guy in the stomach. He fell to the ground, and mumbled something else insulting about teenagers. The guy was crazy, but Chrys was crazier for going back to the clearing where she knew they were all in immediate danger. But whatever.

"Holy fuck..." Chrys was trying to calm her breathing as she walked back toward Gary and Pete with Jimmy. "What a crazy old bastard, huh?"

But the man never quit. The homeless in Bullworth didn't quit until the kids left or were knocked out. And Chrys felt another brick hit her in the back. Anger quickly followed as Chrys swooped down to throw another brick at the man's face, but Gary quickly grabbed her arm and lowered it forcefully. He'd be damned if Chrys went to prison for homicide, and he knew Chrys would and could go that far.

"We can't have to locked up for murder." Gary whispered dangerously in Chrys' ear.

"I wasn't going to murder him."

"Mmm... bullshit."

"Not bullshit." Chrys snapped defensively, eyes narrowed at the old man now standing up from the ground. "I was just going to... seriously injure him."

"Still at least a suspension, if not an expulsion. You're walking on thin rope, Chrys. Remember?"

Chrys rolled her eyes, and huffed. Gary was one to talk. He didn't give a shit whether he got expelled or not, so he couldn't say anything. "Yeah, whatever. I don't give a shit. The guy's a fucking creep, remember?"

"Yes, he's a creep, but he's harmless." Gary snapped, eyes narrowed in a way that sent shivers down Chrys' spine. "He's drunk most of the time, and he's old. What's he gonna do?"

"Drunk people are capable of doing horrible things, Gary." she said venomously. "You should know that better than anyone."

And for a moment Chrys thought Gary might yell, but he didn't. Instead, he stared at her for a moment, then turned to the old man. With a thick tone of mimicry in his voice, he yelled, "Well, looks like the rumours are true, Jimmy. Your dad does live on campus."

"Dude, c'mon — " Jimmy was saying, promptly cut off by a blunt thud, and Gary stepping back into Chrys.

He'd been hit with a brick in the shoulder. And as Gary went to run away, he yelled something about welfare payments. Then, faster than Chrys' hungover brain could comprehend, Gary and Pete ran off. They had left Jimmy and Chrys alone with a crazed old man. And she supposed she should've ran after them and dragged Jimmy along, but honestly Chrys was too tired. Too tired and too hungover. Besides, they could beat the shit out of the guy if he tried to hurt them.

"Just... get outta here, kids." the old man said, eyes narrowed as he gestured toward the exit.

Jimmy, being the rebellious teenager he was, fought back saying, "Why should we?"

"Because otherwise I'll kill ya!"

It definitely wasn't the first time Chrys had been threatened with death before. She's grown up along side the greasers, who were at war with the preps. And the townie's fought the greasers too, and stuck in the middle was Chrys. So she wasn't particularly worried about dying at that point. But for some reason the old drunk guy with the greasy shirt made her angry. Like he could take down Chrys, or Jimmy. Even if he was sober.

The thought was laughable, and Chrys snapped, "What the fuck's your problem?"

"That's a long story, kid." he said, then switched his attention to Jimmy. "You got any liquor?"

"No — " Jimmy snapped angrily, " — I'm fifteen."

"Well, what 'bout drugs?"

"No!"

The man took a few scarily quick steps toward Jimmy, shouting, "Well then why shouldn't I kill ya?"

"Alright then, tough guy, kill me!"

Chrys took a few panicked steps toward Jimmy and wrapped a shaking arm around his shoulders. "Nah, no killing. But I know where you can get some booze, if you dig that kinda thing, of course."

"What?" the old man said, cocking an eyebrow. "I ain't diggin' for nothing."

"No... it's an... expression, never mind. I mean you could steal booze from my father." Chrys said slowly. "Sneak in when he's at work, nobody'll know what happened, and you'll get off free."

There was a long silence, before he laughed, and shook his head. "Y'know what? I like your style." his words were slurred. "When I was on the ridge in Korea watching my buddies get killed by friendly fire, I could've used the two of you."

"Yeah?" Jimmy asked, humoured by this odd compliment. "Thanks."

"But I bet you can't fight..." he was lost in thought for a moment, before he stumbled toward Chrys and pointed a finger at her chest. "You two do me a favour, and I'll show ya some _real_ moves."

He put an unnecessary amount of emphasize on "real" as if the moves Jimmy and Chrys already knew from their tough childhoods weren't existent.

" _Classified_ moves, real special army stuff."

"Cool!"

"You just get me parts for my radio and I'll show ya what the army taught me."

Jimmy snorted, "What? Like how to get shot by your own side?"

There was something elegantly cruel in what Jimmy said, but Chrys showed no emotion whatsoever.

The old man just lowered his hand away from Chrys, nodding his head. "Yeah, exactly..."

xxxxxxxxxx

After the tricky job of actually obtaining the part for the radio, the move he had _taught_ the pair was an uppercut. Chrys already knew how to uppercut, but she supposed it was cool to punch the old man in the face. It was payback for the scar she received on account of his bitterness. And besides, practice was better than inexperience, so she held her tongue. It seemed like the old man seemed at least a little sorry for assaulting the pair, and that was really all Chrys needed to feel comfortable.

It wasn't until the pair were just near the front door when Jimmy turned to Chrys and spoke. It startled her a little bit, but Jimmy was unfazed.

"Are you and Gary... okay?"

"Um... yeah? I think so. Why?"

Jimmy shrugged, "Dunno. You two just seem... weird sometimes."

"I don't know if I should take that as an insult or not."

"No, no, no." Jimmy shook his head, trying to find the right words. "It just... seems like you two are stiff. Y'know what I mean? Like it's not genuine, but maybe that's just me."

"No offense, Jimmy. But it's just you." Chrys said defensively, narrowing her eyes at the ground and thinking _But is he right? Whatever._ "I'm fine, he's fine, were fine together. Everything's fine. Honestly."

"Okay." Jimmy said, and that was that.

As they walked up the steps of the main building, the first thing Chrys saw was Gary and Pete. Gary as rather angry looking, explaining something to Pete in such a violent manner that Chrys thought he might hit him. Pete was looking uncomfortable, and his eyes were sliding around, avoiding Gary's gaze. It was as if Pete thought Gary's venom might infect him. Which, in all honesty, wasn't impossible.

There was a fair bit of whisper yelling going on, and Gary was so indulged that he didn't even notice Jimmy and Chrys approaching. Chrys heard the words, "Jimmy" "cheating" "jealous" among other things. But Chrys hadn't pieced it together yet. _Maybe_ , she thought, _Gary was jealous that Jimmy was able to cheat on tests unlike himself_. But deep down she knew that wasn't it.

Gary didn't stop lecturing until Chrys was a mere few feet away. When he did stop though, it happened all at once and any emotion he had before was wiped away. No more anger, no more whisper yelling, no more gritting his teeth and spitting words at Pete. Just silence, and a sickeningly fake smile on his lips. He was on the verge of driving Chrys up the wall, but he pulled her into a hug.

Pete still looked uncomfortable though, and while Chrys' head was over Gary's shoulder, she nodded to Pete and mouthed, _What's wrong?_

He mouthed back, _Nothing._

To which she replied _, Bullshit, Petey. Tell me the truth or I'll beat it out of you._

He didn't respond, but nodded his head. He'd tell her later.

"So... where were you guys? We were... _worried_." Gary asked, his voice hiding an emotion Chrys couldn't put her finger on.

"Turns out that homeless guy is a war veteran, and if we get him some parts for his radio he'll teach us some "classified" moves." Jimmy replied, recalling how happy Chrys looked that she had been able to punch the guy in the face. "So far he's only taught us an uppercut, but there's more."

"Mmm." Gary nodded his head, seeming more or less unimpressed by what he thought was a lie. "But where were you really?"

"We were getting taught how to uppercut by an old war veteran." Chrys repeated, raising an eyebrow at her boyfriend and realizing calmly that Gary thought they were lying. "It's sounds ridiculous, but I swear to god it's true."

"You promise?"

Chrys shrugged, "Yeah, of coarse. Promise."

Gary nodded, and seemed like he believed it. Chrys thought he entire thing was over, and barely had time to consider _why_ he'd questioned them before she was being rushed off to art class.

Jimmy by her side, Chrys ran down the hallway and hung a right into the art room.

"Hello, Miss Skelton." the teacher said sweetly. "It's a pleasure to have you in my class again this year."

"It's a pleasure to be taught by you." Chrys said, picking an easel somewhat close to the door. "This is Jimmy. He's a new kid."

"Hey." Jimmy said.

"Pleasure."

As the final bell rang, Chrys' head was suddenly filled with the possibilities of why Gary had been questioning them. Why the sudden distrust? What was he suspicious of? Chrys had never lied to him, minding the one time she lied to him about what they were going to do on the day of their anniversary last year, but that wasn't something worth losing trust over.

And as Chrys greeted Mandy as she took an easel next to her, debating several possibilities, one popped into her head which she immediately shut down. That, she thought, would be impossible. Gary had to have known she wouldn't do that, ever. In a million years. But as Mandy talked, and Chrys listened, the thought came back. Getting bigger and bigger and louder and louder until Chrys couldn't ignore it anymore. She had to at least acknowledge it before it drove her mental.

 _Gary thinks I'm cheating on him_.

"Chrys? Don't you think?" Mandy asked.

"What?" _pause._ "Oh yeah... sure."

 _Gary... Gary thinks I'm cheating_.

And much to Chrys' dismay, it made a lot of sense.

 _Gary thinks I'm cheating on him..._

"Shut up, spotty!" Mandy called across the room, and Beatrice, the only female nerd, retracted into herself. "God, I fucking hate her!"

"Eh, she's alright sometimes." Chrys shrugged, eyes glazed.

"Chrys, are you okay?"

"Yeah. I'm great."

 _Gary thinks I'm cheating._

And as Mandy shrugged, turning to greet her boyfriend, a bitter taste filled Chrys' mouth.

 _Gary thinks I'm cheating on him... with Jimmy._


	10. Bullshit Academy (16 years)

**September 9, 2013**

Chrys pulled the paintbrush across the canvas, marking it with another shade of blue, and sighed. There was a lot on her mind, and art class made her uncomfortable. Ms Phillips, who was the art and photography teacher, would stand behind students and examine their work. Every few seconds, she would "hmm..." then move along like nothing had every happened. It was super awkward, especially when she would lean over the students shoulder and whisper in their ear.

As Chrys let another stroke fall into her painting, she heard a shuffle behind her and then the distinct hmming of a teacher much too involved in her students work. Regardless, Chrys ignored it, and painted the canvas with now a shade of white as to make clouds in the sky. After a few minutes of ignoring the hmming, Chrys felt a hand on her shoulder, and then Ms Phillips leaned down next to her ear. Chrys shouldn't have been surprised, but she was.

"Good job on the technique, Chrysanthemum." she whispered. "Even though that's not the assignment."

"Uh... thanks. And sorry..." Chrys said.

"Shush, no talking." Phillips scolded, then left alike nothing had ever happened. Just like she always did, and always would.

After Phillips had accomplished making Jimmy incredibly uncomfortable, she leaned in toward him, and whispered something in his ear. He flushed a sort of red, and then turned to Chrys as soon as the teacher walked away. Mouthing _help_ in a way that seemed like a joke more than anything, Jimmy dipped his paintbrush in his paint and brought it up to the canvas. He was actually doing the assignment. Which was to paint Phillips, and it wasn't doing too bad. Actually, fairly well.

"You really caught the sexual tension in her face." Chrys whispered.

Jimmy smirked, "Yeah, thanks. I tried to catch the "I'm-obviously-flirting-with-every-male-student" look."

Chrys cracked a crooked smile. "Well, job well done."

Chrys was standing in between Jimmy (who was standing in between Chrys and the end of the row) and Mandy (who was standing in between Chrys and her boyfriend Ted Thompson). Chrys didn't mind Mandy, but she hated Ted with a passion. They guy had beat her up one too many times when they were kids, and they lead to an extreme amount of hard feelings. She didn't give a shit if he had changed. Jocks don't change. Their steroids and their booze addictions made sure of that.

With a faint thought of her first encounter with Ted in her mind, Chrys began to paint pinks, reds, and oranges to her painting of a sunset. It looked alright, she thought. And the clouds looked like clouds. She was glad because she didn't want to start over and she had no other painting ideas.

After an excruciating few hours of painting, ignoring the hmming, and whispering with Jimmy, the bell finally rang. Phillips, over the sudden roar of students, yelled to have a good lunch. Chrys wondered if she knew how awful the food was, but didn't ask, and instead grabbed Jimmy's wrist and pulled him out into the hallway.

"Want something from the vending machine?" she asked loudly, unaware that she was still holding onto Jimmy's wrist tightly.

He shook her off, then said, "Yes. Always."

Together they walked toward the vending machine. Chrys bought eight bags of chips, and several chocolate bars for good measure.

xxxxxxxxxx

After scanning over the cafeteria for a good minute, Chrys spotted Pete hauled up in a corner by himself. His hands were shaking as he was reading a book, and there was a fresh bruise on his cheek. Chrys turned to Jimmy and told him to wait a few moments, before she scurried off to Pete's table. Once she got there, she slammed her hands down onto the table top. Pete grunted, but quickly realized who it was: an unusually unkept Chrysanthemum Skelton.

He looked confused for a moment, but all at once realized what she was about to ask. "I'm not telling you anything — "

"Why not?" Chrys snapped, eyes narrowed. "What were you and Gary talking about?"

"Nothing."

Chrys gritted her teeth and leaned in close, spitting venom in her words. "I tell you everything bad he says about you! Why can't you return the favour?"

"What makes you think it's about you?" Pete said defensively.

"Because it is."

"It's not!"

"Look, if it's bad I want to know." Chrys was pleading now, unaware of how desperate she sounded. "I want to know if I can fix it."

"Literally it's nothing. He's just being... nervous." Pete said, his eye right eye twitching. "You know he has a problem with paranoia."

"It's not nothing. You're lying."

"I'm not." Another twitch of his eye.

"Nice try, idiot, but your eye twitches when you lie."

Pete bit his lip nervously, and shook his head. Swearing under his breath, he closed his book and stood. He was at least half a foot shorter than Chrys, but he had no doubt she wouldn't hurt him. Not now.

"He just thinks you're — "

But before Pete could get it out, Jimmy interrupted. "Hey, are we gonna eat outside or what?" he asked impatiently.

"Yes, yes." Chrys waved him off angrily. "We're right behind you."

Jimmy rolled his eyes, and then walked off. Pete and Chrys followed behind.

"So, what were you saying?"

"All it is, is that he thinks you and Jimmy are more than friends." Pete said, quickly followed up by, "But, really, it's nothing serious. It'll be fine. He's just... overreacting again."

Chrys swore loudly. "But we're not more than friends."

"I know that, and you know that, and Jimmy knows that. He'll come around, Chrys."

"I hope so." Chrys sighed as the gloomy sky filled her vision. "I really fucking hope so."

xxxxxxxxxx

Unfortunately for Gary and Chrys, English class had a seating plan in which Gary sat at the way front near Mr Galloway's desk near the people who usually caused the most disturbance in class. Whereas Chrys had the pleasure of sitting in the middle of the class where the people who were troublemakers but not gigantic ones sat.

She supposed she should've been angrier about her boyfriend being situated pretty far away in one of the only classes she had with him, but the people surrounding her made it better. It was only a few hours, and besides it wasn't like they wouldn't see each other after school. So Chrys sat down in her desk, and fist pounded Johnny when he turned around in his seat to say hello.

"Your boys all the way at the front, huh?" Johnny asked, running a hand through his hair to get some of the loose strands down. "Sucks."

"I guess, but you're here, and asshole's here. So I'm good."

"Who's asshole?"

Chrys smiled, "Mr Northwick, here."

Trent punched her shoulder. "Shut the hell up." But he was smiling.

"I mean, c'mon... You are an asshole." Chrys reasoned.

And Trent agreed, but said, "Yeah, so are you though so it's even."

Johnny laughed, and then Mr Galloway shouted at the class to keep it down. "Now, the curriculum demands you do these vocabulary — uh... assignments. Why don't you get them done in class so you have more free time?"

He then handed out a single sheet of paper with a box of scrambled letters in it. The directions read: " _Students are required to find all possible letter combinations using these letters._ " And Chrys just raised her eyebrow.

She heard Trent aggressively scribbling something on the corner of her page, and then poked her shoulder and angled the paper toward her. It read: _WTF are these assignments?_

 _They're like at a kindergarden level._ Chrys wrote in response, glancing up at Gary to see that he too was leaning over the page questioning the educational standards in Bullworth Academy.

 _One of the words is meow._

 _Trent, I'm not stupid I know that._

 _Okay jeez I was just saying._

And then the conversation stopped so they could work on their "assignments."

The thing was fairly easy by Chrys' standards, and she could see that Pinky was having trouble with hers. Chrys waited until Mr Galloway left the room to lean across the aisle and show Pinky the answers. Pinky quickly copied them down, and then Chrys slumped back down into her seat, feeling good about helping somebody.

After a few minutes, Mr Galloway slumped back into the classroom, saw that Chrys and a few other students were finished, and announced, "Anybody who's done their assignment, come hand it into me, and you're dismissed early." A little less than ten people stood up (among those was Gary, Pinky, and Chrys), and handed in their assignments before stampeding out the door.

"So what'd you think of that?" Chrys asked Gary.

"I... don't know how that's in the curriculum." Gary stated loudly, not caring who heard. "If that's what they're teaching the high school population, what are they teaching the kids?"

"They probably don't even get taught the alphabet until fifth grade."

"The educational standards have gone down so much since we were kids."

"Yup, Bullworth is one hundred percent and most definitely fucked."


	11. In Cuffs (9 years)

**August 10, 2008**

"Do you have any eights?" Johnny asked quietly.

 _BANG!_

"Get off the fucking ground! Aren't you supposed to be _a man_?"

Johnny flinched at the sound of his mother's voice, and another slap. It sounded distinctly like skin against skin sometimes, but other times Chrys couldn't pinpoint what she was hitting Johnny's father with. Maybe a broom, maybe something else. Chrys couldn't tell, and she didn't want to focus on it too hard either.

"Nah. Go fish."

Johnny grabbed his thirteenth card.

 _Slap!_

"Leave me alone! Our son has company over."

"Shut the hell up!"

Johnny cringed again, and sighed. He didn't like when his friends came over and heard the stuff he did on the daily. But he knew Chrys honestly didn't mind, because she too heard the same stuff. But it didn't make Johnny feel any less awkward.

"I'm sorry." he said.

"It's fine." Chrys said. "Do you have any fives?"

Johnny cracked a smile. "Yeah... I do. How the hell are you so good at go fish, huh?"

Chrys smiled back, taking his five. "I'm just good at guessing, I suppose." But she wouldn't ever tell him that she could see his cards in the mirror to his right.

"You're smart."

She shrugged, brushing some hair behind her ear and smiling. "Kinda, I guess."

"Don't be humble. You are." Johnny said with a smirk, pulling his legs in toward himself so he was sitting cross-legged on the end of his bed. "And I'm not gonna lie to you... the kids at Bullworth ain't fond of the smart ones like you. When September rolls around its gonna be hard."

Chrys rolled her eyes. "Man... it's not like I can't handle it." But Johnny could see through her shell, so she changed the subject. "Your turn."

"Fucking leave me alone!" his father yelled, voice cracking with tears. "Please!"

"Stop your goddamn pleading!"

Johnny gritted his teeth and yelled, "Hey! Can you guys shut up?"

His mother, from behind his bedroom door, yelled, "Shut your whore mouth, you piece of shit!"

"Don't talk to him like that — "

 _THUD!_

Johnny looked on the verge of tears, and Chrys frowned. "I'm sorry your parents are like this." she said sadly. "I'm sorry your parents's are pieces of crap."

He shrugged. "Nah, my dad ain't that bad. I mean he's a drunk, but at least he cares a little when I'm not around." he said, fiddling with the cards in his hands. "My mom doesn't notice, and when I do come home... she slaps me around like I never left."

 _Silence._

"Anyways... got any sixes?"

Chrys shook her head. "You got any tens?"

"Yeah, I d — "

 _CRASH!_

Someone screamed behind the door, and Johnny cringed. With a grunt, he threw his cards down onto his bed and shuffled toward his window.

Once he had shoved his curtains out of the way, Johnny leaned over his desk and shoved the thing upward. It hadn't been oiled or opened in awhile, so Johnny grunted loudly when the thing got jammed. Once the window was open, however, a light breeze came in through the window, and Johnny said, "C'mon. Let's go." Before proceeding to climb out of the window, several groans escaping his lips.

Slowly, Chrys stood up and stretched. She was trying a little too desperately to ignore the sounds just outside the door, and was guilty for not doing anything about it. They could've done something. No matter how small of a thing it was. Chrys could've ran downstairs and screamed, " _FUCK YOU!_ " at the parent she barely knew, before storming out the front door in a panic induced rage. But honestly, Chrys was just so drained. Maybe it was the lack of sleep, or maybe it was the stress. She didn't know.

What Chrys did know, however, was that she did miss sleeping in her own bed. Kind of. Sure, Johnny's bed was nice and fluffy and his warmth was great when she got cold. Then, she could cuddle up to him, and feel his soft breathing and heartbeat ringing in her ears. But the nights where she was up, was when Chrys got to thinking about Trent and how much she missed the fucker. Or how much she missed the dog Trent had nicknamed Rex because everything a t-Rex came on screen during Jurassic Park he'd bark.

But Johnny's place was better than Chrys' house. There, she didn't have to worry about being hit because she accidentally spoke too loud, or because her father was drunk and bored. There, Chrys didn't have to worry about the rich kids coming around and bothering her about her clothes because her father had never really bothered trying to dress her nice. There, her and Johnny could speak of things they'd never told anybody else, and they could sleep next to each other without it being weird.

Really, it was the happiest Chrys had ever been. But also the saddest.

She couldn't make sense of herself.

So out the window she went.

"What're we gonna do?" Chrys asked as she reached the ground.

"Go see some friends." Johnny answered vaguely, taking her forearm and dragging her along. "You're gonna like them, I promise."

Chrys nodded, _What friends? He's never mentioned anybody before... Maybe it's that Lola girl he's always going on about._ "Which friends?" she asked.

"Lola, Norton, Peanut, Jordan." Johnny answered.

" _Peanut_? Is that his real name?"

"Nah," Johnny shrugged, "but he don't like anybody knowin' his real name."

"Do you know his real name?"

"Yeah, I'm the one who gave him the damn nickname." he smiled.

Chrys cracked a smile back, and wrapped an arm around Johnny's shoulders. "Why Peanut? Of all things."

"You'll get it when you meet him. It suits him a whole lot."

The walk to the tenements (a rundown building on the greasy side of town) was a fairly long one. Johnny didn't live in the poorest area of New Coventry (where the tenements were), and New Coventry was a maze of back roads and alleys that Johnny took to avoid the homeless on the streets.

Most were violent, and Johnny (who had experienced battery at the hands of one of them) liked to avoid them as much as possible. And the ones who sat in the alleys, were friendly enough. So that's the way they went.

It took them about thirty minutes to get to the tenements, and once they arrived, Johnny's friends were nowhere in sight.

"Weird... they're always here." Johnny commented.

"Maybe it's too early." Chrys said.

"Probably. I don't think any of them get up before noon on vacations anyway." Johnny said, a sort of smile that makes you feel fuzzy inside on his lips. "We can go look around until then."

xxxxxxxxxx

Johnny and Chrys ran into Lola on a backroad behind an old factory.

Her arms had been swaying to a song she had been listening to, but they stopped almost instinctively when she noticed the too figures off in the distance. Lola's body stiffened, and she moved all the way to the other side of the path. Hoping, and praying that whoever decided to walk down the backroad was someone who wasn't going to start something. But when she recognized Johnny's face, the light in her eyes came back, and that sway in her had come back.

For a moment, Chrys wondered why her whole demeanor could change so quickly like that. And why, if any reason, had she changed it at all. Why would she stop dancing at the sight of another person? Why would she move herself far away from the figures? Chrys couldn't understand. But when Chrys felt Lola's feline-like eyes going over every bit of her body, she got distracted.

It made Chrys uncomfortable how intensely Lola was staring. She seemed to be taking in every detail of Chrys' face. Noticing every scratch, bruise, and scar. Every bump, lump, and places where blood used to be. Chrys could tell Lola had been told about her home life. But somehow, it didn't feel like Lola was judging it. More like she was sympathizing, and had also been through the same thing.

Lola had bruises.

And sure, scars tell a story, but it's one of the past. Bruises are different. They tell a story not yet finished.

"You're Chrys?" Lola asked, voice weak and strong at the same time.

Chrys nodded. "And you're Lola?"

Lola nodded too. There was something sad in her eyes, but Chrys couldn't put a finger on it. "You got a lot of scars."

"And you have a lot of bruises." Chrys commented sourly, eyes narrowed. "But that's your business."

Despite the fact that Lola was only nine or ten, she was wearing makeup. Chrys didn't understand why, but she didn't have time to ponder it. Lola had already curled her bright red lips into a smirk, and Chrys realized they had just become friends.

"So, how long have you been in Bullworth?"

"Few weeks maybe." Chrys shrugged disinterestedly. "Dunno though. It's felt like years."

"That bad, huh?"

"You wouldn't know."

Lola's smile dropped slightly, and by the look on her face she was probably piecing together Chrys. Things like what had happened in Chrys' life, and why Johnny had chosen to save her that night they met. At the thought of that, Lola's already strained smile dropped into a frown, and Chrys just shrugged. It didn't matter. Which was a lie, sure, but Lola didn't need to know that.

The term Chrys had heard was "white lies." Which meant, more or less, that the lie was harmless or trivial, and didn't matter. Her father had said it when he brought home women to cheat on Chrys' mother with, and he told her not to tell. Her mother had said it the first time Chrys got hit, and wanted to tell somebody. Hell, almost every adult had said that at one point or another. So no wonder Chrys grew up thinking it was okay. (Too bad there's a double standard, and adults can lie, but children can't).

"Hey, Lola." Johnny said suddenly, knocking Lola out of her frown. "Where's everybody else?"

"Like who?" she asked.

"Peanut and Norton and all them."

"Peanut is busy today, but last I saw Norton he said he was gonna go shop around today." Lola said, recalling the meeting. "Why?"

"I wanted to introduce Chrys to everyone." Johnny said. "Y'know... just so she's got some people to hangout when school comes."

"Well, Norton said he was gonna go around 89th." Lola commented.

"Let's head on down there then, yeah?"

"Sure. C'mon, Chrys." Lola said, wrapping an arm around Chrys' shoulders. "Let's blow this Popsicle stand."

xxxxxxxxxx

Norton had been around 89th like Lola had said, but he wasn't shopping.

Instead, a policeman had the kid pressed down against the hood of the police car, and was yelling. Something about drugs and money, but Chrys couldn't hear much as the trio ran over. Johnny yelling at the policeman to let Norton go, Lola yelling to alert somebody of the injustice going on, and Chrys all at once realizing the real reason Norton had been pinned down.

"C'mon, I ain't never slung dope in my life!" Norton yelled, pressed against the cold metal. Forehead drenched in sweat, he was swearing.

And his brother, Ajay, was yelling.

"Sir, the kid's fucking eleven." Ajay yelled, being held back by a couple of officers near the end of the sidewalk. "There's no reason he'd be dealing!"

"You have the right to remain silent." the officer was saying, patting down Norton's legs. "Everything you say can and will be held against you."

Chrys knew the whole situation wasn't about drugs. No police officer in their right mind would pat down an eleven year old under suspicion of drugs.

"Let him go!" Chrys yelled. "You can't just batter him up just because he's _black_!"

The police officer gritted his teeth, and turned quite sharply. Norton was now in handcuffs, and was leaning over the hood with blood on his wrists. Raw skin. But Chrys, who should've been more concerned about Norton, realized how messed up she'd made the situation. And how much she shouldn't have said that.

"I'll batter whoever the fuck I want." he said, grabbing Chrys by the wrist and thrashing her around. "You fucking dirty piece of shit."

 _Thump._

Chrys fell flat onto the ground, feeling a stinging in her wrist where his hands just were.

"I bet you're pumping drugs and shit around here too." he said devilishly, a sort of egotistical malice to him that only a crooked cop can have. "Huh?! Are you dealing?"

"No!" Chrys yelled.

He grabbed her by the arm, and pulled her up. And in that moment, Chrys felt something in her shoulder pop, but she was too riled up to notice.

She'd never even done drugs, let alone dealt them.

 _Click._

 _What is that?! What the fuck is that?_

 _Click._

Cuffs...

"You're going downtown."

And Chrys, feeling vulnerable and panicked, kicked the police officer straight in the balls.


	12. Detention (16 years)

**September 14, 2013**

The sunlight was just barely peaking through the curtains, and a cool breeze was drifting in through the open window. Birds were chirping. _Goddammit why won't those things shut up?_ Someone was snoring. _Probably Eunice. When the fuck isn't she snoring?_ And Chrys, who was awake far earlier than usual, yawned. Rubbing the crust out of her eyes, and moaning slightly as all her body was trying to settle down. Get back to normal after the few hours on a rock-hard bed.

And then Angie sat down on the edge of her bed, shaking the whole thing with her.

 _Ugh._

Chrys opened her eyes, looking blankly at the stained ceiling above her.

"What do you want?" she asked, bitter.

"I need..." she stopped, and Chrys got annoyed.

"What? What do you need?" Chrys exclaimed, a little too loud.

"I just have a question." she said, and then paused.

Chrys waited for a question, but when none came, she snapped, "Get on with it."

"Right, sorry." Angie stuttered, looking thoughtfully out the window before glancing back at Chrys. Her eyes were full of contemplation, and curiously, but Chrys just wished she'd _get the fuck on with it_. "Do you believe in life after love?"

"What?"

"That is the question."

Eyes narrowed, Chrys groaned, "Really?"

"Yes."

"C'mon, what the... I don't get it?"

Angie's cheeks flushed red for a moment. "I... uh — I think I might be in love. But I don't think he'll ever love me back. And it seems crazy that I could even function without him."

Chrys groaned, _Great. Boy advice._

"Alright. Who is it?"

Angie narrowed her eyes. Not in an angry way, but in more of a... concerned way. "Do you... have to know?"

"Uh, yeah, obviously." Chrys said, "Every boy is different. I need to know which one to help you out."

"Oh... okay. Well..." _pause_. "It's... his name is... Jimmy."

"Like Jimmy Hopkins?"

"I think, yeah."

"The kid who literally got here... yesterday." Chrys said slowly.

"Uh... yes."

"Holy fuck..." Chrys murmured under her breath, rubbing a shaking hand over her forehead. "Well... honestly just tell him straight up. Worst thing that can happen is that he rejects. It's not that big of a deal."

"O... okay..." Angie sputtered, cheeks red. "Well, I'll... see you later."

"Yeah. Bye."

And then Chrys left her dorm.

But just as quickly as Chrys had left the room, a prefect appeared. Grabbing Chrys' arm, she pulled the teenager back, and said, "Crabblesnitch wants to see you." Before letting her arm go, "Immediately." And then walked off down the hall, knocking on doors to wake up the girls within.

The walk to Crabblesnitch's office was one fueled by anxiety and hatred. On one hand, _oh god, oh god, what did I do? What if I get expelled?_ And on the other, _man, fuck that guy. He can rot in hell._ Chrys hated Crabblesnitch, and Crabblesnitch hated Chrys. And that much hate that early in he morning would've drawn Chrys right up the wall normally, but she was tired. And she didn't think her annoyance could override her tiredness.

Once inside, Chrys skipped up the stairs, and made a hard right to where Crabblesnitch's over lay right over the stairs. Overlooking the school in an ominous way, that somehow still didn't stop kids from fighting each other in the main entry way. The students rarely ever saw the headmaster, and Chrys figured that's what contributed partly to why unruliness was still a major _asset_ of Bullworth.

The Danver's lady in the office was probably the least intimidating person on the planet. She was probably five foot nothing (in heels), and weighted around a hundred pounds on a good day. Her voice was high and squeaky, and honestly that was the only thing Chrys found even remotely scary about her. Danver's dressed like a high classed business woman from the 60's, and that was partly because she had a major crush on Crabblesnitch and admired his age greatly.

It was an unrequited love too. The sort that makes you sad that she's hopelessly in love, but not sad enough because _she's a bitch_. But Chrys didn't bother herself so much with the love lives of those corrupt adults above her. She figured if she did, it would drive her mental. So, without a lot of desire to do so, Chrys walked slowly into the waiting room of the office. A crooked smile on her lips.

"What's up?"

Danver's, however, didn't smile. In fact, she frowned, and pointed sourly toward Gary and Jimmy, who were talking to each other in the corner. They had been there for awhile, judging by Gary's poor posture as he sat in the chair. And Chrys briefly wondered how serious the offense must've been if Crabblesnitch had waited until they were all there together.

"What'd I do now?" Chrys asked.

But Danver's just shook her finger again, and said, "Go. Sit."

Chrys took a seat next to Jimmy, and put her head in her hands. "This has to be about harassing the homeless guy, right?"

Jimmy nodded, and crossed his arms over his chest. He looked angry, but then again Jimmy always looked angry so Chrys couldn't really tell. "Must be. It's the only thing we've done so far."

"Doesn't mean they won't pin us for shit we didn't do." Chrys said. "It's happened before."

"Oh well," Gary shrugged. He didn't have a care in the world. "We get detention, and then we serve our detention. Then it's over."

"Yeah, true enough. But I don't need anymore skid marks on my record." Chrys laughed, lifting her head from her hands. "As if it needs another one."

Gary smiled, running a hand through his hair. "How many is that now? One... no, two hundred?"

"Something like that." Chrys smirked.

Jimmy raised his eyebrows. He was impressed. "What for?"

"Mostly just misconduct." Chrys said slowly, pulling all her knowledge about all her fuck ups out of her brain. "My favourite one, though, was because I kicked a cop in the dick."

"Um, why?" Jimmy laughed.

"He said I was slinging dope and tried to arrest me." Chrys shrugged. "I was ten, and I panicked."

"Nice." he said.

"Yeah, the cops are crooked around here, man. Get in with the wrong crowd, and they'll think you're doing bad shit anytime, anywhere — "

"SKELTON!" a shrill voice shouted, and a hand smacked the back of Chrys' head. "Watch your mouth!"

"Oh, like you haven't said worse." Chrys murmured.

"What was that?"

"Never mind."

Danver's, annoyed, shook her head. Just like Crabblesnitch, Danver's hated Chrys with a passion. Well... she actually hated most of the kids in the school, but Chrys really drove her hatred home. The misconduct was the biggest thing. Then the foul mouth. And then the rest. Chrys was an acquired taste, according to Danver's, and she tasted disgusting bitter to most adults who knew her.

"Whatever. Smith, Crabblesnitch will see you now." Danver's glared at Gary, and when Gary didn't stand up, she got defensive. "Go. _Now!_ "

As they watched Gary walked away, Jimmy turned to Chrys.

"What do you think we'll get for detention?" he asked.

"Dunno."

"That was really helpful, thanks."

Chrys grinned, "Anytime."

A near ten minutes later, Crabblesnitch's office door creaked open, and out stepped Gary Smith. Smug looking, and smirking, he strode confidently toward the exit. There was a certain hop in his step that hadn't been there before, and Chrys narrowed her eyes. Gary seemed odd, and it almost worried her. So, Chrys whispered, "What'd you get?" To which he replied, almost too smugly, "I got off." And that was that.

Jimmy glanced sideways at Chrys and murmured, "He threw us under the bus."

"Of-fucking-course he did." Chrys snapped loudly, crossing her arms over her chest. "He always does."

"Skelton! What did I say?" Danver's shrieked, wishing she was standing closer so she could smack Chrys again. But she couldn't, so she'd have to settle for yelling. "Anyways, Hopkins — go. Now."

And five minutes later, Jimmy was out of the office. Angry looking, and annoyed. The two brushed shoulders when they passed and Chrys heard him say, "I got mowing duty."

Groaning, she shoved open the door, and took a seat at Crabblesnitch's desk. Though the entire room was outdated, the desk was probably the most outdated thing out them all.

It had been there for years, like even before Chrys' step-mother had attended Bullworth. The thing smelt like it too. Rotting and poorly taken care of. Once, the desk had been a massive thing, grand and magnificent. But now, the desk was covered in kids tears and coffee stains. Left to be forgotten like everything even remotely good at Bullworth. Chrys hated the thing, but not as much as she despised Crabblesnitch.

"Skelton!" Crabblesnitch exclaimed in fake glee. "It's nice to see you again."

"Whatever, man." Chrys snapped, waving her hand off dismissively. "You hate me, I hate you. Cut to the punishment, alright?"

Crabblesnitch's face shifted from one of faked glee to straight malice in under a second. All at once, the man looked about twenty years older. The wrinkles on his face growing stronger, and the scowl permanently printed on his face becoming known once again. Honestly, it was incredible Crabblesnitch could fake an emotion so well, but Chrys didn't have a lot of time to ponder that before he was speaking again.

"You harassed an old man." Crabblesnitch commented, as if Chrys wouldn't already know. "You're a menace. You're a juvenile delinquent — "

"Oh, c'mon! Relax, old man — "

"I have half a mind to slap you right into juvie." he snapped, slamming a fist down on the desk. The small pencils jumped, and an old picture frame fell over. "But I am a reasonable man, and your father has made some wonderful points about why I should keep you here."

 _Money_.

"So, Skelton, I've given your Hopkins friend two days on mowing duty." he said, looking over the notepad he kept on his desk as if it might hold some words that would unlock the tension in the room. "But... I'm giving you three days on bathroom duty." And when Chrys began to protest, snapped, "No exceptions."

Bathroom duty was possibly the worst detention to get.

Chrys groaned, and slumped back into her chair.

"Fuck me..."

"Excuse me? What was that?" Crabblesnitch said dangerously.

"Nothing." Chrys said, running shaking hands through greasy hair. "I didn't say anything."

Crabblesnitch smirked, and said, "Good. You will be in the girls bathroom downstairs at the beginning of lunch, every lunch, for three days. If you skip one of those sessions, or are late, you will be pursued for further punishment. Understood?"

"Whatever."

"You start today, Skelton." Crabblesnitch said loudly, as she stood violently from her chair and rushed toward the door. "Don't you forget!"

"I won't!" she responded. " _Fucking asshole._ "

Chrys hated Crabblesnitch with a passion.

 _Whatever_.

 _Fuck it_.

Bullworth was bullshit. It always had been, and always would be. Chrys didn't have much use in dwelling on it.

"Skelton — get to your first class." a prefect said, "The first bell has almost rung."

"Yeah, yeah... whatever. I'm going." she dismissed lazily, rolling her eyes.

 _Art room. Math room. Ah, geography room._

And Chrys entered the room right as the final bell went off.

"Miss Skelton, late as usual I see." Mr Matthews, the geography and history teacher, said sourly. "Take a seat next to Trent."

"I'm actually not late, thanks." Chrys spat.

"You _actually_ are."

Chrys slide into the desk next to Trent, and gritted her teeth. Trent, sensing a certain sort of anger to her, stopped talking to Kirby (who was seated in front of him), and turned to her. Chrys, almost instantly regretting ever even coming to geography with her anger, held her hand up to Trent and whispered, almost... _terrifyingly_ that she "didn't want to fucking talk about it." And that if he talked about it more than this time, she would "beat his ass."

Trent didn't say anything, and went back to talking with Kirby. Whispering. About how Chrys' emotions sometimes got out of control, but she wasn't all bad. Honestly. Chrys almost laughed at the thought... _not all bad_. Sure, Trent.

 _Sure_.

Chrys found it hard to stay awake during Matthews lecture, and found herself dozing off quite a few times.

" — so, class, this year we'll be learning about the continents and the countries within — "

She dozed off.

" — you'll be receiving atlas' — "

And she dozed off again.

" — the globe is a resource that everybody can use — "

And she dozed off a —

"Miss Skelton!" Matthews awoke her with a start, and she instantly sat up in her chair. "My class is not a place for sleeping, understood?"

Chrys said, "Yessir," even though she hadn't really heard what he'd said.

"Another incident like this, and we'll have to take you to Dr Crabblesnitch's office, alright?"

"Mmm..."

"What? Pardon me?" Matthews snapped.

"I meant... yessir." Chrys said.

"Good... uh..." he cleared his throat, glancing around the classroom. "Anyways... here is your assignment for today. Get it done quickly, and I might let you go early."

Once Chrys had received the crappily printed out map of Europe, and a few paper flags she was to tape to the correct countries, Chrys sighed. Her stomach was empty, and she hated to ask Trent to do things for her, but she was starving. And couldn't get food at lunch either. So, she scribbled, _Can you pick me up some chips at lunch? I have detention and can't get them myself._

Trent replied, angling his paper toward her, _Yeah, sure. What'd you do?_

 _Harassed that old man._

 _Which one?_

 _The homeless one. Behind the bus._

Trent kind of stifled a laugh, and then wrote, _Wow.. But yeah, I'll get you chips. What's your class after lunch?_

 _Music._

 _I'll come drop them off before class starts._

 _Thanks._

And that was that.

After about twenty minutes of struggling to get the flags to stick, Chrys raised her hand eagerly. Mathews came over, and inspected the paper intensely. She could tell he was trying to make out whatever had once been written on the corner of the paper, but he couldn't, and at that he sighed. Lifting it, he nodded and took the paper back to his desk. Leaving Chrys in a silent classroom to be alone with her thoughts.

 _Norton's hair looks really good today. I wonder how Jimmy's doing, adjusting to Bullworth is a fucking hassle and a half. Also, how's Pete doing? He's been here for years and I don't think he's adjusted yet. Why is Gary suspicious of Jimmy? How come Derby runs a hand through his hair every time he puts a stupid little flag down? Why don't his eyebrows match his hair? Why do I care? Fuck._

Near the end of class, Mathews spoke loudly, "Just talk amongst yourselves."

Almost instantly, Chrys felt a poke, and turned. Pinky was sitting there, holding a nail file, and smiling genuinely. "Which flag was the one with blue and a yellow cross?"

"Sweden's." Chrys said.

"Awesome sauce." Pinky sighed in relief, dropping the nail file onto the desk. "I totally thought I got that wrong?"

" _Awesome sauce_?" Norton, who had been eavesdropping said. "Are you five?" but there wasn't anything malicious to the tone of his voice.

Pinky rolled her eyes, "Get outta here greasy." but there was something sweet, almost loving in the tone of her voice.

"Alright, guys, calm the flirting." Chrys said loudly.

Trent, ears perking at the comment about flirting, spun around. "Hm?"

"Norton and Pinky are flirting the fuck outta each other." Chrys commented slyly, a smirk on her lips. "But that's none of our business."

"Man, fuck you." Norton snapped.

"Uh huh..." Chrys laughed. "Fuck _me_."

 _BLLLRING._

 _BLLLRING._

Almost instantly, everybody stood. Gathering their books and bags, before all shuffling out the door in a cloud. Chrys was starving. But she couldn't stop to get even a single chip because otherwise their would be _further punishment_. According to Crabblesnitch anyway.

So she ran, and ran, and ran, and left Gary in the dust knowing that he knew where she was running off to.


	13. Defending Nerds? (16 years)

**September 14, 2013**

During summer vacation, when Chrys was sat on her roof with gashes and bruises (all fresh) scattered all over her body, she liked to watch the sunset.

Regardless of whether it was late, and she was tired. Whenever she got the chance, she would stare aimlessly at the sunset, watching as the clouds drifted slowly through the sky. These clouds, soft like cotton candy, would be the only break in the multicoloured light. The oranges, pinks, reds, purples, would all reflect off of Chrys' eyes and lips and cheeks, and refract back into the sky. Like she was a mirror. A mirror that reflected all that was beautiful in the world, but wasn't beautiful itself.

Chrys liked to watch.

And honestly, sunsets brought back really good memories. Memories of laughing. Memories of smiles. Memories of comfort and Gary and kissing and falling in love with your best friend. Gary. And the sunset.

 _Our sunset_.

The thing that brought Gary and Chrys together in the realist way possible.

Chrys could remember the day like the back of her hand.

Her, sitting on the roof. Scared, bloody, no tears present in her eyes. Her father had just recently sent a fist slamming into her face, but there wasn't any emotion residue. Only physical. Chrys felt sad, but it was an exhilarating and infinite kind of sadness. It was like she was the world, and the world was her. Like sure, she was pathetic and sad and sitting on her roof to avoid the wrongdoings of a drunk fucker in her house, but she was still kicking.

Him, climbing up the drainpipe. A little less scared, a little less bloody, but there was a ton of emotional residue. And physical too. Gary wasn't the type to let anyone on that he felt any other emotion except assholishness, but when he sat down next to Chrys on the roof, there was a sort of sadness to his movement. Chrys could see it, and he knew she could see it, so he didn't try and hide it.

"How's it going?" Gary had said, taking the sunset in all at once.

Chrys had just looked at him.

"Yeah, me too." he said, shaking his head. "What'd your dad do this time?"

"Got drunk, I pissed him off." Chrys said. "He... beat me up because I'm worthless to him, and he's never given a shit about me." _Pause._ "What'd your mother do to you?"

"She blamed me for my dad's prison sentence again, and just smacked me around." Gary said softly. "Same as always."

"I'm sorry, Gary." she had said.

"It's okay... I'm used to it." he had said back, eyes moving slowly toward her lips.

There was silence for a few seconds before Chrys asked, "What's wrong?"

"Can I kiss you?"

"W-what?"

"Can... I kiss you?" he had said again.

Chrys was silent for a moment.

"Yes."

They were fourteen then.

Sixteen now. With arms wrapped around each other as they sat in the stands of the football field, watching the jocks practice underneath the setting sun. Lips pressed against one another's like they had when they first kissed, but somehow, on some level, something was different.

Gary and Chrys had fallen in love underneath a sunset, but something had changed. This time was different.

" — yeah, and Angie asked me for boy advice real early this morning." Chrys was saying, an arm wrapped around Gary's waist. "Like seven."

Gary shook his head, smiling. "Really? For what boy?"

"Jimmy." Chrys rolled her eyes. "Angie sees him once and thinks she's in love. Pathetic, honestly."

"Seems like everybody's starting to like Hopkins, aren't they?" Gary said, a certain tone to his voice that Chrys couldn't quite place, but gave her an uneasy feeling. "Interesting."

"I guess so."

"Do you like him?"

"Yeah, he's a cool guy. He's got his head on straight, I think."

Gary nodded, quickly raising the corners of his mouth into a devilish smile. "Well, I'm glad. I think you... uh... we're all going to be _really_ good friends."

"Yeah, I hope so. Maybe somebody'll finally be looking after Pete." Chrys smiled.

"Maybe." he muttered, and there was something eerie in his voice.

The football team was practicing almost 24/7. And Chrys wasn't exaggerating. They were in the field when Chrys woke up, they were in the field when Chrys snuck out at 1:00am. She honestly didn't think they slept. All the steroids the coach made them pump made sure of that. Especially some of the bigger built jocks like Ted and Damon. Chrys didn't think she'd ever seen them not awake, and honestly it sort of scared her a little.

For a brief bit, she had considered auditioning (and actually did, but didn't get put on the team) for some sort of Bullworth sports team. Back when she was thirteen and stupid and had no idea of what Bullworth did to star athletes, or course. Chrys had wanted to join the boxing team back then, but got rejected because 1) she was a girl (apparently girls are only _capable of cheerleading_ ), and 2) she was unwilling to fill her body with steroids. But whatever. She didn't want to be a jock anyway, and Gary wouldn't have wanted her to be either.

"D'you ever just, like, look at Burton and want to projectile vomit everywhere?"

Gary thought for a second, "Uh, always." he laughed.

"Good, I'm not the only one then."

"I think everybody feels that way about him."

Chrys shook her head, "Not Ted. He'd squeeze the man's balls if he asked."

"Of course!" Gary exclaimed. "Now we know why Ted's the quarterback."

She laughed, and gagged at the thought. "Gross, gross, gross. Enough of that."

Gary just smiled, and wrapped his arm tighter around Chrys' shoulders.

Everything seemed peaceful.

Face aglow with the intense colours of the sunset, Chrys placed her head heavy on Gary's shoulder. All at once realizing how chilly it was outside Gary's embrace. Her lips (chapped from all the excessive kissing) were curled into a small smile, and Chrys was seemingly enjoying the thoughts she was having, whatever they were.

And Gary, who too had a glowing face, placed his head on the top of Chrys' head, wanting nothing more than to just stay there forever. In that exact spot. With exactly her. And exactly the feelings he had tried to suppress for so many years. His eyebrows were squinted slightly, and for a moment he thought about pranking some poor bastard on the green below, but he didn't move. Allowing Chrys to be lost in the moment of the sunset awhile longer, and allowing himself the pleasure of staying exactly where he wanted.

Chrys didn't know why, but whenever she was sitting in the light of the fading sun, she always got to thinking. Not a light sort of happy thinking, but an intense, dark, deep thinking that always gave her head a spin. She thought that maybe it was a product of years of spending time on the rooftop alone, and really all you can do when you're alone is think. Unless you want to look mental.

Which, with all the rumours surrounding Chrys, she didn't want to fuel.

So she thought.

"Gary?"

"Yeah?"

She hesitated. "Can I... ask you a question?"

"Sure." he said, and Chrys could tell he wasn't really interested.

"Why'd you throw me and Jimmy under the bus today?" _Fuck. Cringe. Gary's gonna be pissed._

Instantly, Chrys could feel Gary getting somewhat defensive. "What d'you mean?"

"You didn't get detention, and we both did."

"So, you instantly jump to the conclusion that I weaved my way out of that?" Gary snapped, removing his arm from around Chrys' shoulders. She felt cold. "Typical."

"Yeah, typical. Because you've done it before." Chrys snapped back, eyebrows knotted together in annoyance. "So I don't get why you're getting all defensive."

"I don't get why you're acting like I murdered your fucking family. It's just a detention."

"I'm not acting like you murdered my family, actually." Chrys rolled her eyes. He always for like this when she called him out on something. Honestly, it drove her up the wall. "Hell, if you murdered my family, I'd be rejoicing."

"Fine. You're acting like I murdered your fucking boy toy Jimmy."

"Boy toy?"

"Yeah." Gary said back, crossing arms over his chest, and standing. "Boy toy."

Chrys said, "Oh, now you're gonna leave, huh?"

Gary shoved past her legs, and yelled back, "Yeah, fuck you! Come find me when you calm down."

"I'm not the one that needs to calm down." Chrys called back, shoving her middle fingers high into the air. "Have fun being a douche bag!"

"I will!" he yelled back, and then disappeared.

 _Asshole._

With basically her entire night ruined, Chrys crossed her arms over her chest and leaned back into the bleachers. And, upon deciding that was extremely uncomfortable, laid down and stared blankly at the sky. Wondering if aliens existed, and if they did, would they have the same problems are humans? Would they fight with their significant other, and then lay down on their planets form of a bleacher and stare into the sky? Probably not. But Chrys liked to think she wasn't alone.

After awhile, the sun had sunk completely below the horizon. Leaving behind the twinkling stars, and the moon. It was like Chrys had blinked, and suddenly the world was covered in a velvety black blanket, speckled with diamonds. Beautiful, really. But not as beautiful as sunsets, and not as beautiful as feeling comfortable. (Chrys just wanted to feel the way a sunset looked, in all honesty).

(But she would never tell anyone that).

And after an even longer while, Chrys heard footsteps coming up the bleachers. Sitting up quickly, and squinting into the darkness, she could make out a stocky, short shadow making its way toward her. Flaming red hair, and fractured knuckles, Jimmy sat down next to her, and sighed a, "Yo, what's up?" Before Chrys laid back down, Jimmy at her feet.

"Not much." she said quietly. "Just watching the sky. What about you?"

"Came up here to think."

"About?" she asked.

"Stuff." he confirmed.

Chrys smiled. "What kind of stuff though?"

Jimmy hesitated for a moment, and she could hear it in his voice. "Like... deep stuff. Boy stuff."

"Boy stuff?" Chrys questioned, once again sitting up and straddling the bench so her face was right near Jimmy. "Well... d'you need to like... talk? Not to be sappy and shit, but like... I could maybe — uh... help?"

Jimmy laughed a little. "No, it's nothing serious. Just a little awkward. I'll figure it out though."

"Okay..."

Chrys, awkward now, looked up at the stars again. This time, however, she could see the constellations. The images in the stars that made astrologists come up with all that zodiac shit, and the study of how that might affect people. Chrys was a Virgo, and when she was younger, she had put a little research into what that meant. How being Virgo might translate into how Chrys grew up, or how she turned out being sixteen, and disgruntled and sad.

Virgo's were, apparently, compassionate _HA, not me_ , caring _AHHAHA no_ , and their life pursuit was (according to a sketchy website Chrys had found after hours of searching) to do the right thing. _No. Fuck no._

It was laughable to think that Chrys had ever been any of those words, or that she still might be. At the thought, she giggled a little out loud, and caught Jimmy's attention.

"What's so funny?" he asked.

"Nothing... just... how much I've changed."

Jimmy nodded understandingly, even though he didn't.

Chrys smiled weakly, and turned her attention away from the stars.

"So... how's life?"

Jimmy shrugged. "Alright. How's yours?"

"Alright, too."

At that, the conversation once again fell silent. Nothing less could be said, nothing more. Chrys usually found silences in conversations annoying or uncomfortable, but with Jimmy it didn't. She felt like they could sit beside each other in silence for hours and nothing would be awkward.

Really, that new found discovery was a relief.

Chrys had only ever meet three people in her life where the silences weren't awkward: Pete, Trent, and Johnny. But she supposed now she could add Jimmy to her imaginary list.

"Chrys?"

"Hm?"

"Are any of the cheerleaders single?"

Chrys smirked, and shook her head. "Like the cheerleader type, I see."

"What can I say?" he said, smiling. "Tall, thin, and squeaky is my type, I guess."

"Yeah, well good luck getting with any of the Bullworth cheerleaders." Chrys said slowly, a smirk still on her lips. "Christy's been locked up tight with some guy since last year. Pinky is alright, I guess, but she's a prep and you're... not. So her family wouldn't permit it. Mandy's been dating the quarterback since forever. And... Angie is pretty single, and I guess you could go for her if you wanted. But she's awkward, and already obsessed with you, so that wouldn't go over well."

"Already obsessed?"

Chrys nodded. "Yeah, man, she told me about how she's _in love_ with you this morning."

Jimmy cracked a smile, and leaned back. "Well, I always knew I was a ladies man, but damn."

Rolling her eyes, Chrys said, "Yeah, alright. A stocky psychopath sure makes me go weak in the knees."

"Shut the hell up." Jimmy snapped, but he was smiling.

Jimmy had never expected to like Chrys as much as he did. Her brown hair, and brown eyes, and too many scars to explain made her seem distant. She was annoying, loud, and self important, but over everything else Chrys was trustworthy. Even if she wouldn't admit it to herself. Sure, she had a chaotic soul, and her head was messy, but Jimmy swore up and down that she would defend anybody worth defending.

"Chrys?"

"What?"

"Are you... okay?"

She was silent for a moment, debating her answer. "Yeah, I guess."

"Okay, good."

"Why?" she asked. "Are you?"

"Yeah, I was just making sure."

To Jimmy, the whole thing was just a simple question. But to Chrys, it meant way more than he could ever know. Kindness, acceptance, and perhaps even the ever so mysterious concept of friendship.

xxxxxxxxxx

The next morning, Chrys was out and about before six a.m. She felt energized for whatever reason, and pulled out her phone. Scrolling through her contacts until she found one under the name of _Shithead_ with a small heart next to it, and an unattractive closeup for the contact photo. She pulled up their previous text conversation, (something about how _dumb Chrys was for getting suspended_ ) and shot him a text.

[Text]: _Petey, where are you?_

 _Surprisingly, Pete responded within a minute. He wasn't usually this early of a bird, so Chrys figured something must've been bothering him._

[Text]: _In my dorm room... why?_

[Text]: _Is Gary there?_

[Text]: _Yeah? Why?_

[Text]: _I'm coming. Unlock your window._

[Text]: _Jesus Christ. Fine._

And sure enough, the window was unlocked when Chrys crept around to the back of the building, and found Gary and Pete's room. Having climbed in and out of that window several times over her time at Bullworth, Chrys had no issue in getting in, and it actually happened so fast that Pete said, "Jesus... chill." To which Chrys replied, "Where's Gary? I thought you said he was in here."

"He went to pee."

"Fantastic. Did you tell him I was coming?" she asked, for a moment considering that Gary might've dipped out if Pete had.

"Yeah... why wouldn't I?"

"I dunno. I was just wondering." Chrys said, running a hand through her hair. "Let's go watch tv."

"Sure."

The tv was playing something sport related, but to Chrys it was all just fuzzy. There was a dull buzzing in her head that only came about sometimes, and all she could think about was Gary. Had he dipped out? Was he avoiding her? Why didn't he just fucking talk it out like a normal person? It drove Chrys right up the wall, but she didn't have much time to dwell on it, before a loud, booming voice echoed our from the doorway.

"Ah, swim team... intellectual stuff."

Chrys almost jumped out of her skin, and turned to see Gary, standing boldly in the doorway. His hands were up in the air, and there was a sharp smirk on his lips. Sharp liked knifes. But not in a good way.

"Tell me, Petey, do you like watching the girls in their swimming costumes? Does that fuel your filthy little fantasies?"

"Gary — "

"'Oh, Marion, show me your breast stroke!'" Gary cut him off, swinging around the couch so he was standing in between Pete and the tv. "Or wait... do you like the boys on the team?"

Pete rolled his eyes, and sighed, looking toward Chrys for help, but found none there. "Yeah right, Gary — "

"Well, which is it, Petey?"

"Leave him alone, Gary." Chrys pitched in finally, a sour look on her face.

"Leave me alone." he spat back.

"For fuck sakes..."

"And I see you guys are getting along as usual." Jimmy waltzed in, sporting a new watch that Chrys figured he had either a) stolen, b) beaten somebody up for, or c) bought it from the school shop. She was going to go with option a.

Gary smacked Pete's shoulder (causing Pete to whimper in pain), and said, "I'm just toughening him up. Turning him into a man... or a woman, or... _something_."

"Are you and Gary fighting?" Pete whispered.

"No shit, Sherlock." Chrys snapped back, slapping his other shoulder, causing him to whimper even more.

"Screw you! I was just asking a question!"

"A fucking dumb question! Fuck you!"

"Whatever."

" _Whatever._ "

Soon after Chrys had mocked Pete, and stood to join Gary and Jimmy by the doorway, she saw Algie coming down the hallway. Or rather, smelt him coming. Algie smelt like stale piss and broken dreams, and shitty personalities, and fucked up everything else, and Chrys hated him. So, when he turned the corner and the smell hit her even harder, she gagged aggressively. Jimmy laughed, Gary rolled his eyes, and Chrys nearly puked all over everything. (But at least it would've smelt better).

"Hey Jimmy, hey Petey." he chirped happily.

"Fuck, pee stain..." Chrys gagged. "Do you ever bathe? Like ever?"

But just like Algie always did, he ignored her.

"Listen, Jimmy... I need a favour."

"Of course you do, because you're physically incapable of doing anything yourself." Chrys spat. "You're literally the laziest person on this entire fucking planet."

"Bucky went to the auto shop to get some parts for his science project, and he hasn't come back yet... I think he might be in trouble." Algie ignored Chrys, and could tell Jimmy was not having any of what he was saying. He wasn't even toying with the possibility of helping. "Pleaseeeee?"

"Go yourself." Jimmy said sourly, crossing his arms over his chest and rolling his eyes.

Algie laughed nervously, and Chrys knew he was trying to think of a lie on the spot. After a brief pause, Algie sputtered out, "I... uh... I've got homework." But he could tell everyone in that room knew he was lying, so he quickly changed his story, making himself more pathetic. "Oh... okay! I'm frightened! And I've got a weak bladder."

Gary and Chrys were laughing, but he didn't stop.

"I think the bullies might've gotten him. Please, Jimmy? I'll pay!"

Before Jimmy could retaliate, Gary said, "I say do it."

And what Gary wanted, he usually got, so Chrys knew there was no point in fighting him.

"It's a good chance to show Russell and his boys who's in charge around here." he said, then shifted his intense gaze to Algie. "Run along, pee stain, before you mark the carpet."

In the few moments Gary stood watching Algie waddle away, Jimmy shifted uncomfortably on his feet. The plan was set. There was no point in fighting Gary. And Chrys decided she was going to tag along with Jimmy, just to make sure the kid didn't get his ass kicked.

"We've got to take care of Russell and his boys — " Gary was saying, " — then, after that, take care of all the other cliques. Soon the school will be ours."

Jimmy shook his head, "I don't want the school."

"Well I do, pal, and I intend to get it." Gary snapped back, eyes narrowed in a dangerous way. "Now, both of you go help that dork."

 _Both of you_. _He hasn't spoken proper to me since yesterday, and he's already bossing me around? What a fucking joke._

"And what're you going to do?"

Gary looked Chrys dead in the eye. "I've got planning to do."

"Of course by planning you mean bothering Pete, right?"

"Always." he said.

And off Jimmy and Chrys went.

When Jimmy and Chrys arrived at the entrance to the auto shop area, they could hear Bucky yelling from somewhere within.

As soon as they turned the corner into the area, Chrys saw one of the bullies she recognized to be Wade holding Bucky about a half a foot above the ground by the collar of his shirt. Another bully, she could recognized to be Tom because of the large bruise over his eye, was hitting Bucky all over with a baseball bat, and was yelling rather terrible things at him. However, since Chrys had heard worse yelled in her direction, the whole thing came merely as an inconvenience, and she just walked up toward them.

Lighting a cigarette, Chrys strode coolly toward the scene unraveling, and said, "Let the nerd down."

Wade, however, noticed the person standing a couple feet away was Chrys, and rolled his eyes. As far as he was concerned, Chrys wouldn't touch a member of her step brothers clique, so she really wasn't a big deal.

This made Chrys agitated. "Hey, numbskull, I said put the ducking nerd down."

Wade dropped Bucky, and turned slowly toward her. There was rage in his eyes, but Chrys knew he wouldn't snap right away.

"What'd you just call me?"

"Numbskull." Chrys said, smirking.

"You wanna see me lose it, fucker?! Huh?!" he yelled, fueled by rage. "You're lucky you're Trent's sister or I'd be beating the shit outta you right now!"

Chrys paused for a moment, blowing the cigarette smoke out through chapped lips. "You wanna know what I think?"

"Not really."

"Uh, too bad. I think you're hiding behind an excuse because you don't want to fight me. I think in reality you're just a scared little girl who hides behind anger because of insecurities. Wade, you're a fucking joke."

"Shut up!" Wade snapped, standing within punching distance of Chrys. "You don't know anything about me!"

"I know that your father batters you up all the time, and that your mother left you when you were six." Chrys hissed threateningly, blowing a cloud of smoke into Wade's face. "You hate your step mother because she's a bitch, and she brought this kid along with her that's a massive bag of dicks.

"Listen, man, I get the anger. I really do. My father is a giant dick like yours, and I don't like my step mother, either. But that doesn't mean you have to take all his anger out on Bucky, alright? So what d'you say? You gonna leave him alone?"

And for a moment, Wade seemed to be thinking over what she said for a moment, before everything happened in a flash. Suddenly, his fist made contact with her face. Then, Chrys didn't know what compelled her to use such a cheap move, but she swung her leg right into Wade's crotch. Right in the fucking dick. Causing him to stumble backward in pain. He felt like his head was going to explode it hurt so much... which only fueled his anger.

Jimmy was on top of Tom the minute Wade swung the first punch, so Chrys had some time to recover from Wade's punch before she would have to fight again. She felt along her now puffy cheek, and felt something wet right underneath her cheekbone. When she pulled her hand away, she wasn't surprised to find that it was, indeed, blood.

Chrys, unconcerned by her newest injury, ran her finger along underneath the gash, and flicked the blood away. She deduced that by the amount of blood it wasn't a big cut, but she figured it would leave a scar. _Just great_ , she thought miserably, _another scar for the collection_. But she didn't have much time to ponder that as Wade stood up again, and was gritting his teeth at her. (A primitive sign of aggression, according to what Chrys had picked up over the years).

Instead of going in for another punch like the bullies usually did, Wade instead tackled Chrys to the ground, yelling all sorts of things that she didn't really bother to make out. He then slugged her across the face a few times before she was able to break her hands free, and get a grip on his hair. She pulled and pulled until he was yelping for her to stop, then shoved him away and onto the ground. Chrys then promptly straddled Wade, and punched and punched and punched until she could feel her knuckles beginning to swell up.

After awhile, Wade stopped wiggling underneath her, and Chrys stopped punching. His face was so bloody, and she felt bad for him, but quickly shook the feeling when Jimmy placed his hand on her shoulder. "Holy shit, you messed him up good." And then she stood, and smiled at Jimmy, who smiled in return. His face was a little messed up from when Tom had got a few licks in, but neither of them were too badly hurt. It was Wade and Tom that were undoubtedly scarred up.

Chrys huffed out a sigh, and then wiped the sweat off her forehead. "Where's Bucky?"

Jimmy pointed behind her, and she turned to see the shaken face of a boy who'd been hit too many times. She strode over to him, clapped a hand on his shoulder, and said, "It's all cool now. You're safe. Go get your stuff for your project." He took a moment to comply, but eventually did, and then Jimmy and Chrys were alone.

"Jesus, you can rile people up." he commented.

"It took you that long to figure it out?" she laughed.

"I'm a little dense, I've been told."

Then they went quiet. Until Bucky scooted around the corner, holding what looked like car parts (but Chrys wouldn't ever be able to tell) (she was bullshitting her way through shop class, honestly).

"Listen, guys, thanks so much." Bucky said, his lisp more prominent than ever in the presence of two intimidating bullies. Then, walked over to a skateboard leaned against the wall, and handed it to Jimmy. "Have this, and Chrys — " he handed her a couple of ten dollar bills, " — have this. Thanks again." Before he scurried off.

Pocketing the money, Chrys nodded to Jimmy. "You wanna try that thing out?"

Jimmy, smiling wide, nodded excitedly. "Yeah. You wanna race back to the dorms before class?"

Chrys flashed a crooked grin, and nodded. "Fuck yeah, just let me get my bike."

A few minutes later, the pair was settled at the entrance of the auto shop area. Jimmy on his new skateboard, and Chrys on her broken down bike.

"You ready to get your ass kicked?" Jimmy asked.

"In your dreams, psycho." Chrys said.

"Three..."

 _Foot on the fucking pedal, jackass._

"Two..."

 _Don't run into those kids._

"One..."

 _C'mon, Chrys. You gotta win._

"GO!"

So they rode, and they rode, and they rode, and life didn't get much better.


	14. Trouble (10 years)

**August 26, 2008**

Around six in the morning, when Chrys heard an urgent pounding on her door, she groaned and rolled out of bed.

It wasn't unusual for this sort of pounding to wake her up in the morning. Usually, (actually most of the time) Chrys woke up to her door shaking, then she'd get up and go open it to then 1) get slapped in the face by her father, 2) get yelled at by Trent's mother because Chrys woke up late, or 3) get scolded by Trent for locking her bedroom door when there was a strict policy against it.

In all honesty, Chrys hoped for option one, because first off, it woke her up. Secondly, it was some actual attention from someone who usually ignored her. And third, (although Chrys would _never_ admit it) she hated being yelled at more than anything. It made her feel small. Useless. Pathetic. Like the world was crumbling around her, and all she could do was stand and watch. Anxiety does that sort of thing.

With several wishes that it was indeed option one, Chrys ran a trembling hand through her undoubtable bed head, and reached toward the door handle. She unlocked it (slowly, but not too slowly), and then threw open the door, disgusted at the person standing before her.

"Hey, pill popper."

"It hasn't been two seconds and you're already getting on my nerves." Chrys snapped bitterly, glaring at her older brother, Riley.

Riley, a slight smirk on his lips, shoved past Chrys and into her room. He seemed to be taking it all in — the largish bed, the window seat, the messy desk, the bookshelves, the old copy of _The Outsiders_ that sat on the ground. Chrys figured he must've been jealous about how much she actually had, but if he was he wasn't letting her on that he was. He just shifted on his feet, and turned back around to look at her, his eyes narrow.

"What do you even do for fun around here?" Riley asked slowly, as if calculating his next line of attack.

"Beat up people. Rob stores. The usual." she said, and Riley honestly couldn't tell if she was joking or not. "I didn't think you knew what fun was. Seeing as you're oh so busy with that dumb broad you call a girlfriend."

"Don't talk bad about her, you fuck. I'll beat the living shit outta you." he snapped, his teeth gritted. "She's way better than you'll ever be, Chrysanthemum. You're a joke. The family mistake."

Chrys shrugged nonchalantly. "Whatever, moron."

He hated how she could do that. He hated how she wasn't phased by anything.

"Do not call me a moron!" he whispered violently, trying to keep his voice down. "You call me something like that again and you'll have toes for teeth. Understand?"

Again, (this time bothering him more than anything had ever bothered him) she shrugged, and he couldn't contain himself anymore.

"No wonder mum and dad hate you! You're a fucking pill popping, scumbag with nothing else to do that sit on your ass and complain!"

Chrys gritted her teeth, and clenched her fists. "In case you haven't noticed, Riley, we're both in the same boat. Our mother hates you, she hates me. Our father hates you, and he definitely hates me. The only difference is that you're stuck up, and have everything handed to you on a silver plater."

"You think I have everything handed to me?" he asked in disbelief, wondering what the hell kind of medication she was on, and if they were messing with her judgement. "You don't know what it's like at home. It's all fucked. Just like you."

"Wow. Real original. I've never heard that one before." Chrys kind of fake laughed, and then narrowed her eyes at him. "And you're not the only kid in this family whose home life isn't great. Get over yourself."

Riley never really liked his sister. Chrys was rude, she talked back, and she didn't ever understand the consequences of her actions (or she just didn't care). She always had this gross, snarky tone to her voice, and she always sounded so calm, cool, and collected even during times when Riley felt his anxiety raising through the roof. It pissed him off. Plus just to top it all off, Chrys has these dark, sunken eyes that are just full of panic and anxiety and chaos. She's literally just a human contradiction. He hated contradictions.

In all honesty, Riley felt like he could really, actually, literally shove his sister off a bridge and not feel sorry. He and Chrys are opposites in every sense of the word, and he hated people that weren't like him.

"How about you get over yourself?" he asked loudly, taking a few dangerously violent steps toward her. "You don't know what it's like with mum and her new beau, okay? He's a piece of shit. What I've gone through makes what you have look _weak_."

"Doubt it." she murmured, not really wanting to get into the business of whose suffering was worse because she honestly thought that suffering was just that — _suffering_. And that you couldn't really put a value on it.

"You're infuriating."

Riley is polite to adults, and never talks back to them (unlike Chrys). He pretends to be okay with things even if they really bother him (again, unlike Chrys). His eyes are lively and blue, and they're bright, and not sunken in, or narrow, or suspicious, and there's a sort of calmness to them that Chrys' don't have. His voice (unlike Chrys's calm one) is shaky and clipped because of a bad experience he had when he was seven. Plus, he doesn't hang around with those greaseballs that she does, and he's not as rough looking either.

His nose isn't broken, or crooked. His teeth are relatively straight, but compared to Chrys' teeth they're perfect. Hers are all crooked and jacked and chipped, and he couldn't remember if she was born like that, or if she got them because of a beating, but he didn't care. He had actual muscle to him, unlike Chrys' scrawny frame. He had a handsome, untattered face, while Chrys had cuts and bruises going every which way. His fingers weren't crooked. _And at least_ , he thought to himself, _I don't look like a hood_.

"Yeah, well..." Chrys stuttered, racking her brain for an insult. "Your face looks funny!"

"Good one." he said.

"Thanks, asshole." she responded.

For a moment, he was silent, and then Riley said, "You look rough." as if acknowledging the things Chrys had been through since their parents split.

"It's been hell." she said back, narrowing her eyes at the sudden drop in hostility. "What're you here for anyway?"

"It's your birthday, jackass. Mum decided to drive us down here this year." Riley took one look at Chrys' confused face, and laughed loudly. "Did you really forget about your own birthday?"

"No." she lied.

"Yeah, _okay_." he snarled sarcastically, rolling his eyes. "Well, dad sent me up here to come get you. There's this whole party downstairs, and you better get dressed unless you wanna get hit, yeah?"

"Uh..." _pause,_ "um... yeah. H-how many people are here?"

Riley seemed to be counting off the people in his head before he looked at Chrys and shrugged. "Dunno. Lots." And then left, closing the door behind him.

Chrys stood there for a moment in awe. _Is this real life?_ She pinched her arm, and confirming that this was in fact real life, smiled slightly. There hadn't been a proper birthday party for her in a few years. All the others before had either 1) sucked, or 2) just didn't happen. The thought of a party sent a shiver of excitement throughout Chrys' entire body, and she just had to get downstairs.

Quickly, Chrys pulled on a pair of presentable pants, and threw on some shirt she found laying on the ground. She ran a few quick fingers through her hair, and then pulled on a pair of mismatched socks. Then, just as Riley was reaching the bottom of the stairs, Chrys swung open her door and practically ran down the hallway — excited, yet terrified at the same time.

On her third birthday... well, all Chrys really remembered was numbness. She didn't remember the exactly details of what happened, but it had something to do with her mother swallowing too many pain killers, and then being hospitalized. After, she received a fancy doll as if it would fix anything.

On her forth birthday (and her fifth, and her sixth), Chrys just got ignored. She'd wait a few hours, until she would realize that nobody was going to do anything for it. Then, she'd lay on the couch and wonder why there was a tightness in her chest.

But her seventh birthday was the worst by far. A week or two before (the memory was blurred because Chrys hadn't been in a good mindset), her mother broke off from her father for someone else a lot richer. This lead to booze. And when Chrys' father drank booze he got violent, and that much was evident on her seventh birthday. That night, as Chrys laid on her bed with blood trickling out from everywhere, she wanted to be someone else, somewhere else, with something besides numbness to fill her mind.

Pushing those memories back down, Chrys swung around the top banister of the staircase and wondered aloud how many people were downstairs. Had the greasers been invited? Would her father tolerate those he called scum for a few hours? Were those rich kids like Derby and Pinky and Bif downstairs? _Had they gotten her nice presents? Rich presents?_ Were the greasers like Johnny and Lola going to get along with the rich kids? Or would there be chaos because money always rubbed people the wrong way? Chrys didn't know, but as she reached the bottom of the grand staircase, she sure did find out.

All around there were people. Rich people, poor people. Preps, greasers. Middle class kids and their parents. Kids Chrys knew personally, by name, or merely just in passing. Adults, teenagers, kids, and also some pets. Handsome men, beautiful women. There were all sorts of people. In the corner near the snack table stood a few greasers Chrys had come to know, but not on a personal level. In the middle of the room hanging around their parents stood the preps like Derby and Pinky and Bif. Around the outer walls stood greasers like Johnny and Lola and Norton.

Chrys felt her heart jump in her chest.

For a moment, she felt complete, and rushed toward Derby... a large smile on her lips.

"Hello, Chrysanthemum." Derby smiled politely, as if he was putting on a show for somebody. "How's your day been so far?"

"I just woke up." Chrys replied, and then hugged him. "Hey... um... thanks for coming, Derby."

He looked startled at this sudden hug, but wasn't deterred, and he actually hugged her back. She smelt nice, but he'd have to tell Bif about that later. "You're welcome, princess." he whispered.

"How long have you been here for?"

Derby contemplated her question for a moment, and then shrugged. "I'm not sure. Ten or fifteen minutes, probably." Then his voice dropped to a whisper, "Your brother sure is a piece of work."

Chrys giggled, and then nodded in undoubted agreement. "Yeah... yeah, he really is." _pause,_ "You gonna play nice with the greasers?"

He giggled too, and then shrugged. "Yes, yes, of coarse. Your friends are my friends... sort of."

"Good." Chrys said, trying to assert her dominance above him just to make sure that he one hundred percent wouldn't try anything. "You touch any of them, I'll beat you up. Got it?"

Derby smiled, "mmm, got it."

And she knew Derby wasn't intimidated because he did have a large advantage with his height, and beefiness, but Chrys wasn't deterred. _If I can beat up a middle schooler_ , Chrys thought, turning away from Derby and starting to head toward Johnny, _then I could take Derby. He's not that much different._

She knew she was wrong, and she'd never be able to take him, but that was besides the point.

"Hey hey hey, Johnny!" Chrys smiled brightly. "Lola... Peanut... Norton. How are you guys?"

"Fantastic, lovely, amazing." Johnny responded quickly after, wrapped an arm around Chrys' shoulders, and shaking her. "My baby girl is turning ten, and I couldn't be happier."

"Shaddup," Chrys joked, "you're the baby girl, Johnny."

"Yeah, _riiiight_!" he laughed back. "And just a heads up, I couldn't get you much, but I think you'll like it."

Chrys shrugged, and wrapped an arm around Johnny's back. "That's fine. Just you being here is enough." Lola sort of scoffed at this comment, but Chrys didn't pay any mind. "I haven't had a party like this since forever."

Johnny smiled, and messed up her hair affectionately. "Well, I'm glad I could be here, then. But listen... I was thinkin' since you parents aren't so nice, we could... play a prank on them today."

"A prank?"

"Yeah, a complicated prank of sorts that would call for you helping us." Peanut pipped up.

Chrys was instantly intrigued. "Well, what's this prank consist of?"

Johnny smiled a devilish smile, and leaned in close to Chrys' ear. "You gotta agree to help first."

"Of course I'll help, now get on with it." Chrys snapped impatiently, tapping her foot on the ground. "I wanna know what kind of hell we're gonna stir up."

"That a girl." Peanut said loudly, clapping a heavy hand onto Chrys' shoulder. "I'm sure you're gonna love it."

xxxxxxxxxx

After awhile of Chrys just walking around, greeting guests, and talking to local kids, she stumbled upon these two boys who were bickering back and forth. Well, Chrys supposed she couldn't say back and forth, because the taller one was the one shooting insults at the shorter one, and the shorter one was just kind of taking it. But that's besides the point. And after she had stumbled upon them, and cocked her head and smiled, catching one of their attention — the taller one.

He seemed awed for a moment, and then lifted his hand for a handshake. "You must be Chrysanthemum. It's a pleasure to meet you." And although Chrys could tell he was being sincere, there was a sort of snarky, sarcastic tone to his voice that just drove Chrys up the wall, but also intrigued her.

Chrys nodded, and then took his hand. "Yeah, and call me Chrys. I hate flowers."

The taller boy nodded, and the shorter boy shifted on his feet. "Wait, wait, wait... you're the girl I've been hearing about? You're the kid who kicked a police officer in the balls?"

Her eyes widened, and she cocked her head.

 _Has news really gotten around that fast?_

"Uh... yeah, I am." Chrys said.

The taller kid smirked, and clapped a heavy hand on her shoulder. "I knew I'd like you."

 _Like me? What's that mean?_ There were all sorts of thoughts and questions bouncing around in Chrys' head, but only one thing came out of her mouth.

"So..." Chrys began, "What're your guys' names? I don't think I've seen you two around."

The taller one nodded, and told her that he had just moved to Bullworth from some town Chrys couldn't pronounce the name of. "I'm Gary, by the way." he said, smirking a sort of smirk that was like daggers, and Chrys felt her heart beating faster.

"N-nice to meet you, Gary." she said, slightly quieter than usual. "And — " she turned to the short, slight boy who hadn't said a word, " — your name is?"

"Umm... I'm Pete." he raised his hand eagerly for a handshake, but she didn't shake it. He felt his cheeks turn red, but didn't let on that he was embarrassed. "Pete Kowalski."

"Ah." Was all that she said, but Pete could tell she was distracted by something.

"You've got a big house." Pete said.

"Nah, it's just medium sized." Chrys said back.

"No, no, no, no... my house is medium sized. Yours is massive, and I bet your bedroom is the size of my living room."

Chrys shrugged, and flickered her eyes up to Gary's for a moment, before moving them back to Pete's. "Listen, my friends — those greaser kids — and I have a plan to prank my parents before the party ends... and we could use a little extra help."

Gary smirked, "What have you got in mind?"

While Pete gulped, "Gary, we can't. You know what my parents would do to me... I can't get grounded again."

"Oh c'mon, you little bitch!" Gary snapped, shoving Pete's shoulder slightly. "Getting grounded is the least of your problems. I mean, really? I get caught and my granddad'll hit me for sure. But I'm still gonna do it."

"Well, screw you!" Pete snapped back. "You're not like me... I'm... I'm..."

"Soft?" Chrys mocked, crossing her arms over her chest.

"No, I was gonna say "actually a good person," but what's the big deal if I am soft? Why is it that girls can show emotion, but as soon as a boy chooses to he's labeled as weak?"

Chrys rolled her eyes, and sighed. "I wasn't saying that — "

"Really?" Pete asked defensively, sarcasm practically pouring from his mouth. "Because it sure sounds like you were."

"Now look who's all butt hurt."

"Shut up, Gary!"

Chrys gritted her teeth, and smacked Pete's shoulder. "No, you shut up. Now, are you in or not because I haven't got all day."

Pete rolled his eyes, and chewed his tongue. "No. I'm not."

"Fine. That's fine." Chrys sighed, and then turned to Gary. "How about you?"

He nodded in undoubted agreement, "Yeah, I'm in."

"Fantastic. Catch you around, Pete."

"Yeah... see you around, Chrysanthemum." he snarled.

When they were a few meters away, Gary turned to Chrys and said, "What do you think about him?"

Chrys shrugged, "Dunno. Depends."

"On what?"

"How long have you known him for?"

Gary thought on the question. "Well, I moved here a few days ago, and he was the first person I met, so... a few days?"

"Oh."

"Why?"

"Is he always like that? I mean all defensive."

"More often than not, I suppose." Gary said. "But how do you feel about him?"

Chrys shrugged again, "It still depends. I don't know him that well, but from what I've seen he seems a little... uh..."

"Weird? Annoying? Stupid? Whiny? Bitchy?"

"Sure. That."

Gary smiled, and then asked, "So, about this plan..."

Chrys nodded, and stopped abruptly, turning Gary to face her. "Right. So, Johnny was thinking — wait... you know him, right?"

"Um... Johnny?"

"Vincent. Johnny Vincent?"

"He's the greaser kid with the ear piercing?"

"Yeah, that one. So, he was thinking that we'd prank the hell out of my parents, since they deserve it." Chrys said.

"Okay..."

"And, basically, there's this whole elaborate plan that we've got set out already. We're gonna go over to Chad's house — y'know? That rich kid a little ways down the road? Anyway, so he has a dog, and we're going to bring the dog over here — covered in mud, mind you — and let it loose in the house. Then, after that, my father'll be really angry, and there's a whole bunch of other stuff, but that's not our problem." Chrys said all in one breath, then took another deep one. "Our job is to get the dog over here dirty, and let it in, alright?"

"Alright... and the greasers'll take care of the rest?"

"Basically. Except for the end where we come out and claim responsibility for the entire prank." Chrys shrugged, "But that's not until the end."

"I like it." Gary said.

"Good. Let's go get that dog then."

"Mmhm."

After a risky journey that took nearly fifteen minutes because several people stopped Chrys to see where she was going, the pair were finally out of the house, and down the street. However, when they reached the gated yard, Gary cocked his head, and groaned.

"How do we get into the yard?"

"Climb over the fence, obviously."

"And once we climb over, how do we get the dog back on this side?"

Chrys thought on this for a moment, then said, "We'll both go over, get the dog, make it dirty, then one of us'll climb over again. The dog'll go underneath the fence, and then the second person'll climb over too." she glanced at Gary, who was staring at her with a sort of hazy look in his eyes. "Easy as pie."

"Sure." Gary agreed, "But can I ask something first?"

"Shoot." Chrys said, preoccupied by the physics of actually getting over the fence.

"How old are you? Like how old did you turn today?"

"Ten."

"I'm ten too." And the whole exchange sounded an awful lot like the first time Chrys had met Bif, but she held her tongue. "Do you like boys?"

"They're cool, I guess." Chrys answered, a little more confused than before.

"No, I mean... would you be in a relationship with one?"

Chrys shrugged. "Sure."

Gary smiled a bit, then cleared his throat. "Can I..." but he trailed off, and Chrys couldn't hear what he said.

"Sorry, I didn't catch that."

"Uh... yeah... can I — maybe... kiss you?"

She nearly chocked on her spit, but kept her cool. Thinking that maybe she had heard him wrong, she politely asked him to repeat what he had said. This time, however, he asked "Can I kiss you?" with an abundance of confidence, and she knew she hadn't heard him wrong. And on one hand she did want to kiss him. But on the other hand, they were ten, and he was a boy, and they were in public, and, and, and... there was a bunch of factors.

But she nodded anyway, and gasped when his lips pressed against hers.

His mouth tasted like cinnamon, and when he pulled away, all she could do was stare. Chrys couldn't move, she couldn't breathe, she couldn't think about anything other than what had just happened, so she just stared. Heart pounding, and lips dry, Chrysanthemum Skelton just stared, and Gary Smith (who had found the kiss incredibly satisfying) just smiled.

"Wow." he said, scratching the back of his neck.

"Yeah... um... wow." Chrys stuttered, turning away from him, and looking up at the fence again. "I think... I think I found a safe way up."

Displeased at Chrys' reaction to the kiss, Gary crossed his arms over his chest, and huffed. "Well, why don't you go show me then."

"What's got your panties in a twist?" she scoffed.

"Nothing," he lied. "Just climb up. And hurry."

Chrys did climb up, but not because Gary told her to, and had found the safest way up. It took them a little bit to reach the top, but once they did Chrys felt unstoppable, and when Chrys felt unstoppable that usually meant trouble. Plus, breaking into somebody's yard to steal their dog _was_ trouble, so really it all worked out in Gary and Chrys' favour.

After the lengthy task of actually locating the dog in the gigantic yard (the family usually kept him outside, and he usually would hang around the massive doghouse he had), the tricky part came: actually tricking the dog into coming with them.

And because the dog was dumb, and probably inbred, Chrys figured that all she'd have to do was just offer a treat. But when she lifted her hand and showed him it, he just ran at her, snipped at her fingers (nearly taking a bit of one off, probably, and actually causing a few of them to bleed), then ran away again.

"Dammit!" Chrys cried aloud, kicking the air in the dogs direction, and cradling her bleeding hand. "Stupid, dumb dog!"

Gary was instantly at her side, gazing at her wound. "Are you okay?" he asked, genuine worry in his voice.

"Yeah yeah, yeah... I'm fine." Chrys put on a brave face, and flicked the blood off of her hand. "Let's just get this dog, okay?"

"If you insist, my fair lady."

Chrys blushed at the comment, but gritted her teeth. "Enough with the mushy stuff."

Gary raised his hands in defeat, and smiled cockily. His eyes were narrowed slightly, but Chrys could tell it wasn't out of spite. He was just trying to get some sort of reading on her — what she was like, what her past was like, where she'd gotten the scars on her face, etcetera. As she realized this, however, Chrys quickly turned away from Gary, and huffed. He was driving her up the wall, but at the same time she was intrigued, and she couldn't understand why.

"I can tell you like it, y'know?"

"No you can't," Chrys cleared her throat, "because I don't like it."


	15. The Diary (16 years)

**October 10, 2013**

It was around six in the morning when Chrys stepped out into the bright light from the darkness of the infirmary. Pills in one hand, and a small paper cup of water in the other, she made her way toward the steps of the academy, and ran down them. Popping the pills into her mouth, she saw Pete in front of the boys dorm, and made a mental note to go bother him. Like she always would, and he would always have to endure.

Gagging slightly at the bitter taste the pills left in her mouth, Chrys threw the paper cup onto the ground, and made her way toward Pete. He had been leaning up against the stone wall in front of the boys dorm when Chrys first saw him. But in seeing Chrys, had pushed away from the wall and was now standing a couple feet away from it. A look of pure annoyance on his face. Chrys laughed a little, and pulled out a cigarette to smoke it.

They stood in silence for a moment, before Chrys cleared her throat. "Why're you up so early?"

Pete shrugged. "Dunno. My body hates me I guess. What about you?"

"I didn't sleep last night." Chrys said, and it was true. The night before was spent staring at the ceiling wishing she could fall asleep. "I've been awake for awhile."

He nodded, and then hung his head. By the way he had muttered "oh" in response, and was kicking the dirt around at his feet, Chrys could tell something was bothering him. Pete was easy to read.

"What's your deal?" she asked.

"What d'you mean?" he said back, defensively.

"You're all quiet. What's got your panties in a twist?"

Pete just shrugged.

"I can't help if you don't tell me."

"Maybe I don't want help." Pete spat back.

Chrys, annoyed, sighed loudly. She bent down to match his height, and looked him directly in the eye. "The jocks bothering you again?"

"Nah, it's nothing."

"But... it is. You can't lie to me, man."

"Why do you care so much?" Pete asked.

"Because you're so boring when you're sad!"

Chrys could pretend that the reason behind why she cared was selfish, but she knew he meant a whole hell of a lot to her.

"It's six in the morning, nobody's up except for you and me, and you're boring. Tell me what's bothering you."

There was a short moment where Pete just looked at her, and she just looked at him, and the whole world was silent. Pete looked so sad, and whatever it was must have been bothering him a lot because when he finally opened his mouth to speak, it came out so fragile. So tiny.

"My parents aren't gonna be here for Christmas, and they aren't taking me with them."

Chrys narrowed her eyes. "Really?"

"Really." Pete nodded, letting his head fall once again. "I just... never mind."

Sighing, Chrys took a few steps back until her back collided with the stone wall. Sure, Pete's parents ignored him (... a lot), but it seemed weird that they would do something like that. Leaving him alone on a holiday? Especially Christmas. Chrys couldn't wrap her head around the whole thing. Pete's parents seemed too sweet.

"You wanna come over to my house on Christmas?" she asked, the bitter pill taste still lingering in her mouth. "My parents just get drunk, and leave us alone so... yeah. You, Trent and me could all just hang around and play video games or something."

Pete tried to hide a smile, but Chrys saw it anyway. "Yeah... yeah. Are you sure your folks'll be alright with it though?"

Chrys shrugged. "I've had Gary over for Christmas before, and my father didn't care. It'll be fine. Um... fun even."

"Would Gary be there too?" Pete asked, a sour hint to his voice.

"No." Chrys assured, "He usually spends Christmas in his home town so he can visit his father."

Pete smiled, and shifted on his feet. There was a hint of something in his eyes... Happiness? Gratefulness? Love? Chrys couldn't tell.

"Thanks." Pete said. "It... it means... never mind."

 _Silence_.

"Anyways," Chrys said, "wanna go sit down somewhere?"

"Sure." Pete said, and off they went.

After a few minutes of wandering around campus, they sat themselves on the curb of the parking lot. Since it was early in the morning, all Pete and Chrys could really do was chat with each other. Nobody else was awake, so no shenanigans. And even if there were a few other people awake, the prefects were extra strict this early, so no fooling around. And, Bullworth was incredibly boring, so no fucking fun.

Despite it having felt like hours since Chrys woke up, only a mere forty-five minutes had passed. She was kind of grateful to have Pete along since he was someone to talk to, but at the same time he wasn't much of a conversationalist when he was sad. Even much less so when he was sad about something regarding his parents. If Pete could learn anything from Chrys, it would be how to stop giving a shit about people who probably didn't give a shit about you. Life was a hell of a lot easier then.

"Pete?"

"What?"

"Why do you care so much about your parents?" she asked.

Pete shrugged.

"Because, honestly, not giving a shit is easier than giving a shit."

"I can't just turn my feeling off, Chrys. Not everyone's like you." he snapped defensively. "Besides, my parents aren't crap like yours. They're not bad people."

Chrys shook her head, "They're leaving you behind on Christmas, aren't they? I'd say that's a pretty shitty thing to do."

The worst part about it, was that no amount of denial was going to change the fact that Pete's parents were bad people sometimes. He could pretend that the things they bought him (expensive furniture, whatever food he wanted, whatever clothes suited him that day) made up for the holidays he spent alone. But they never did. Pete was just a product of sadness.

"Whatever." he said.

"Listen, all I'm saying is that life's a hell of a lot easier when you're hard."

Her words echoed in the silence that followed.

"Fine. Whatever. Take it, or leave it."

"I'm leaving it."

Chrys shrugged, sketching her legs out onto the pavement. She could feel the cold through her jeans, and her hoodie wasn't doing justice against the slight wind. Pete was doing to well either, shivering slightly in the wind. He caught her eye, and he smiled a bit, a little concerned though.

"Did you... uh... really mean the whole thing about me comin' over for Christmas?" he asked, voice soft.

"Yeah, you egg. That's why I offered."

"And you're sure it's gonna be fine?"

"Like... pretty sure." Chrys said, more or less convincingly.

Pete smiled, and looked down. "Uh... thanks."

"Yeah." she said, looking up into the sky, and letting the sun rays warm her skin.

xxxxxxxxxx

He was outnumbered three to one.

He being Algie, and the three being Trent, Wade, and Tom. Three bullies against one nerd. Chrys knew he would lose, and there was no doubt in her mind that he would. But she could tell Algie was feeling some kind of strength, because he was holding his ground. Feeble fists in the air, swinging inaccurately.

Chrys sat on the stairs, watching the scene unfold. Unlike the prefects who were too concerned with kids being late to class then kids beating each other to death in the lobby. But whatever.

 _That's none of my business._

The bullies liked to taunt their opponents sometimes. Saying things like _Huh, kid. You're about to get a massive beating._ or _(insert insult here), you ready to die?_

 _Yes_ , Chrys would say. _I am ready to die._

 _Shit, Chrys... you alright?_

But Algie wasn't like Chrys in anyway. He wasn't as snarky, and cried when he got hit. Chrys would fight unprovoked, but Algie had to be mercilessly bullied to even lift a finger. But before then, he would be spitting _insults_ (shitty ones) at his opponent in an attempt to get left alone. Unfortunately for Algie, the bullies didn't like to get insulted. Especially by a nerd. So, rest in pieces Algie.

Wade was the one to take the first swing. He always was. Red headed, short, and angry. An abusive pair of parents at home, and a massive, fuming temper. Scars from head to toe, but not just from other people. The most prominent scars on his body were the ones on his knuckles, and his knuckles were also crooked and broken looking. That's what Chrys imagined Algie saw in the last moments before his head swung dangerously fast to the side. Almost a broken neck, but not quite.

(Unfortunately).

The next to throw a punch was Trent, and his fist made direct contact with the bridge of Algie's nose. _Crunch_. Chrys cringed a little, and watched the blood drip onto the floor. She knew how much blood bothered Algie, and she couldn't wait until he got to look at himself in the mirror. He had only come into contact two punches, and already had a broken nose, and the beginnings of a black eye.

Trent laughed a little at the blood, and then swung again. More blood on the ground, and then a kid started screaming. One of the little ones. Sheldon. The one who always tattled on the older kids fir fighting. (Chrys was still bitter about the time her and Ted were about to fistfight, and Sheldon brought a prefect). So, inevitably, Trent, Wade, and Tom were all going to have a hell of a time up in Crabblesnitch's office. But not if Chrys could stop it.

"Trent, Sheldon's off to get a prefect." Chrys said, standing cautiously from the stairs. She wasn't going to get pegged for fighting. If a prefect came, she was running. "And unless you want detention, I suggest backing off."

"Fuck you." Wade snapped, shoving Chrys back.

"Aye!" Chrys shouted, but was cut off by Trent.

Trent put a hand on Wade's shoulder. "Don't do anything you're gonna regret, man..."

"Don't you think she ought to get some payback?"

There were heavy footsteps somewhere down a hallway, running toward them. And Chrys was getting ready to book it. Trent could come with her if he wanted, but hell, she had no problem leaving him behind either. Take it or leave it, Trent. Take it or leave it.

"No, I don't." Trent said. "And you shouldn't either."

"She fucked up my face."

"Not like you had much to lose." Chrys said, shrugging. And Trent had to hold Wade back. "I'd kick your ass again real quick."

Wade gritted his teeth. "Whatever, man. Fuck you. And fuck your sister."

"Step-sister." Trent and Chrys corrected at the same time.

"Like I care."

And then a prefect ran around the corner.

"Cease and desist! Cease and desist!" the prefect was wailing off behind Chrys, footsteps heavily clunking along.

But Chrys wasn't about to cease, or desist. She was _no fucking way_ getting pegged for beating up Algie.

So... fuck Trent.

And off she went, running down the hallway, and accidentally knocking Pedro straight onto his ass. (He cried after, and had to be consoled by an prefect).

Hearing prefects behind her, Chrys skid across the ground at the back of the school, and slid into some lockers. Moments after, she bounded off of the lockers, and glanced behind her. Only to find two prefects hot on her trail. Angry, bloodshot eyed, and red in the face; the prefects wouldn't stop until they had 1) caught her, or 2) lost sight of her. Option two as more desirable (for obvious reasons), so Chrys had a mind set on escaping by whatever means possible.

She rounded the corner, and shoved another kid into a locker. The kid stumbled back, and nearly hit her head on the wall, but quickly caught herself. Chrys wouldn't be pegged for that one. Good.

Light hit her like a freight train when Chrys pushed open the front doors of the academy, and rushed outside. Down the steps, and nearly into a few kids, Chrys ran along the pavement trying to avoid tripping over the uplifted stones and debris. Once, she had slipped on a banana peel while running away from some prefects, and... that didn't end well. So now she was careful. Agile, but not too much. Fast, but not too fast. And all in the hopes that Chrys wouldn't...

Trip.

 _Fuck._

Chrys felt her body falling forward before she felt her feet wrapping around one another. And then she felt the distinct feeling on concrete running against skin, before her feet went straight over her head, and sent her tumbling down the pavement. She skid forward for a few moments, before coming to an abrupt halt in the middle of the dorms.

Road rashed, and groaning in pain. Just like everybody knew she'd get caught one day. Speculation was that Chrys' luck with getting away from prefects would have to come to an end sometime, and some (who had seen the banana peel incident) suspected something along the same lines. Chrys hated the rumours. But at the same time, she had to congratulate them. It's hard to predict how someone might go down.

And as Chrys looked blankly into the faces of the prefects above her, she knew they had been right.

xxxxxxxxxx

Gesturing, Crabblesnitch said, "Take a seat, Skelton."

There was a considerable amount of blood on Chrys' face. Crabblesnitch didn't know what from, but he hoped that it hurt. Whatever it was. The redness extended from the right side of her hairline, to nearly the bottom of her chin, with only a few breaks in between. Her bottom lip was busted open too, and was leaking a small amount of blood onto her chin. Other than that, Crabblesnitch couldn't _see_ anything else, but he could see the blood on Chrys' arms. And he could see the pain behind her smirk.

"Your nose isn't clean." he said as Chrys sat down across from him, clearly in pain.

"Yup." she said, shrugging. "As usual, right?"

Crabblesnitch paused for a moment. He was disappointed.

"Well, all I've got to say is... why?"

Chrys knew exactly what he meant. "It's fun. It's... a tradition."

"Tradition to cause trouble?" Crabblesnitch snapped, annoyed. "What?"

"I can't stop, because if I do people think I got weak." Chrys said. "If people think I get weak, then what? I get beat up everyday at your bullshit academy? No thanks."

"Beat up?" Crabblesnitch snapped. "In my day there was no such thing. We only — "

"Yeah, well it's not the 1800's anymore."

"What?"

"I said — " Chrys raised her voice. " — it's not the 1800's anymore. Things have changed."

Which was true, things had changed. Chrys didn't understand why adults were so obsessed with their day and age. School got harder over the years, teenagers got less well behaved, kids beat up other kids for fun. Get over it.

"Regardless, there is no violence in this school, correct?"

 _Wrong._

"Sure." Chrys said sourly.

"So, I don't understand why you keep picking fights with students and prefects." Crabblesnitch said.

"I already said why."

There was a pause that stretched for longer than it usually did, and Chrys shifted uncomfortably in her seat.

"I have to get you another detention." _he said, rubbing at his temples with dirty fingers. He thought for a moment, looking over paperwork before nodding. "Clean the teacher's lounge. Now."_

"Alright." Chrys said, glad that she hadn't gotten bathroom duty again.

Crabblesnitch looked to the prefect in the doorway, and said, "Please take Miss Skelton to the teacher's lounge, and make sure she doesn't leave."

"Yessir, " the prefect said.

The teachers lounge was located on the first floor, in a small, out of the way hallway. Chrys thought they had put it there to try and stop kids from messing around it, but it hadn't worked. Kids still went into the lounge, and caused trouble for the janitors. But since the janitors of Bullworth had long since given up trying to clean every single thing, the authorities left it to the kids. Free labour, of course. If it's a punishment they don't need to pay. Clever, really.

After Chrys had nearly been shoved down the stairs by the prefect, and kids laughed at the fact that Chrysanthemum Skelton had been caught, Chrys could see the door in the distance. Closing moments after she had glanced at it. She wondered who had gone inside, but didn't have all that much time to ponder. Since a minute later, the prefect was shoving her violently toward the door.

She could still feel the ghost of his hand as he said, "Get to work. I want that lounge spotless by the stroke of four, understand?"

And the prefect could still feel the rush of adrenaline he got when kids got caught as Chrys said, "Sure."

"Go."

In all her years at Bullworth, Chrys could honestly say she hadn't been in the teachers lounge that much. It was one of those things that didn't interest her.

Chrys thought that maybe the reason the teachers lounge turned her off, was because of its oddness. Sure, there were weirder places in Bullworth, but the teachers lounge was definitely up there. It smelt like rotten wood, but also like someone was trying to burn candles to get rid of the smell. Along with that, it also smelt like skunk or dope or something that maybe Chrys woozy, but not woozy enough to forget.

The vibe in the teachers lounge was very sixties. The room looked like someone had personality travelled back in time to get the flashiest room, along with the ugliest furniture they could find. (With Crabblensitch, that honestly wouldn't surprise Chrys much). Crabblesnitch himself was like a throwback to the sixties, and what he said went.

As Chrys entered the room, she took a moment to look around and noticed that there was slight movement behind the couch. Student movement. _It has to be_. The person looked to young to be an adult. Too old to be a kid. So Chrys settled on that it was a teenager trying to cause some trouble, and at that, Chrys said, "Hey, it's fine to come out. It's Chrys."

And the person behind the couch shot up, saying, "Hey, Chrys."

"Jimmy?" she squinted, trying to keep her voice down. "What're you doin' here?"

He held up a pink diary, and said, "Reading it... well... I was supposed to be getting it for Beatrice."

"Why's it here?" Chrys raised an eyebrow, moving closer to Jimmy.

He moved closer to her too, and eventually they were standing right next to each other. "Hattrick took it when she was writing in it. So she asked me to come get it, and you have to check this entry out." Jimmy pointed to a couple paragraphs on the page, and Chrys nearly screamed.

It read:

 _That new Jimmy boy is so bad. Bad teeth, bad hair, bad smell_ (she wasn't wrong about that one) _, bad attitude! And yet, there's something about him that's just so alluring. I told Bucky about how I felt and he didn't seem happy at all. That makes me a little sad because Bucky's been such a great friend, I'd hate to think that something or someone in his life is not treating him well..._

 _Oh I knew it! I walked by him today, and he looked at me! He's such a free radical... How I'd love to pair his electrons. The thought of us making sweet organic chemistry just sends shivers down my spine!_

Chrys just cringed a little, but Jimmy knew what it meant.

"Fuck if I know."

"I think I underestimated you, Jimmy." Chrys commented. "Maybe you are a ladies man after all."

They both chuckled a little, and Jimmy punched her shoulder playfully. "Yeah, I think I might be too."

 _Silence._

"Anyway..." he said. "What're you doing?"

Chrys smirked a little, "I — uh... May have got detention."

"What?"

"I ran away from a prefect." Chrys shrugged, smiling at the expression on Jimmy's face. "After they thought I... kicked the shit outta Algie."

"So what d'you gotta do? Clean the room or something?"

Chrys nodded.

"Sucks." Jimmy said, unempathically. "Well, I gotta go. I'll catch ya later, yeah?"

Chrys nodded again, "Yeah."

"Kay, bye."

"Yeah, bye bye, Jim."


	16. Cigarettes and Promises (10 years)

**August 31, 2008**

The stars looked like scattered moon dust in the sky. Beautiful, yet eerie. Twinkling, yet dull. But not. But somehow yes. Chrys didn't know what it meant.

Her back was against the roof, and her fingernails were dug deep in the freshly replaced shingling. A cold wind was rushing over her, but her wounds were hot. Like molten lava. Chrys didn't think they'd ever cool down again. But she wasn't focused on the pain, and instead stared up at the sky above. A distraction from the horrors of the real world, and from the horrors that were her father.

Eyes skimming blankly across the sky, Chrys all at once realized how simple it looked, but how it seemed to hold every one of her thoughts, or her dreams, or her secrets. Space was vast, stretching out for light years over her head, and over the earth. Humans are insignificant. Only bought to earth for no reason other than to destroy it. To kill themselves off, and destroy the beautiful planet they had the favour of living on.

Chrys hated humans. (The whole human race, that is).

She couldn't believe how screwed they were. People hurting other people, and killing others for trivial things. People being discriminated against for things that didn't even matter, really. Who cares if you're not white? Who cares if you're LGBTQ? Who cares if you have a mental illness? Chrys didn't, and she thought other people shouldn't too.

The world was too beautiful for these terrible beings to inhabit it. But Chrys supposed she couldn't change it. She was only one person, after all. And singular people don't change the world a whole lot, and even if they do the good ones get assassinated. The ones who are trying to make the difference.

That's the thing about the world. Bad people go far and high, while good people get trampled and bashed around until they're barely recognizable. Until they've become the bad people themselves.

Chrys' father wasn't always a bad person. When she was younger, and more naive, he seemed friendly. He smiled at Chrys when she gave him small bundles of dandelions, and he didn't tell her to fuck off whenever she walked in the same room as him. Sure, he sometimes hit Chrys' mother with his ring hand, but never sober. And never Chrys. But then the divorce happened. Her father for darker and more deadly drunk. His words got harsher, and his fist became directed at the nose of Chrys instead of at the wall.

The thing about it was that Chrys didn't know _why_. Why he hit her, that is.

But she supposed the subject was irrelevant, and thinking about it too much would do more harm than good.

So, feeling her eyelids becoming heavy, Chrys let herself fall asleep.

The nap, although fleeting, was a pleasant one. Chrys hadn't gotten a good nights sleep in... ever, if she was honest. But when she awoke, the first thing she happened to notice was a jacket wrapped around her shoulders, and the fact that her head was placed in somebody's lap.

"What the — ?!"

But she stopped.

"Jesus, Johnny..." she said softly, rubbing the side of her head. "You scared me."

"Yeah, well you scared me too." Johnny said, pulling the jacket tighter around Chrys' shoulders. "I was comin' up here to hangout, and I nearly stepped on your head."

"Hangout?" Chrys asked, cocking an eyebrow. "On the roof?"

Johnny flushed red, and looked down at his hands. "Yeah... I know you always come up here to think and stuff, and... I just wanted to see what the big deal was."

"Well, is it everything you've hoped for, Vincent?"

His eyes flicked up to the sky, the soft wind pushing his hair onto his forehead in messy wisps. He looked like an awed child seeing something amazing for the first time. It was like his innocence already long gone had come back briefly, before rushing back out again. In moments, childhood tip-toed out, and adulthood crept in.

 _Why haven't I ever looked at Johnny before?_ Chrys asked herself.

On the roof, Chrys was seeing things about Johnny that'd she'd never seen before. His mouth full of almost perfect teeth, the perfectness only broken by a small chip. His scared skin. Scared from head to toe, but the scaring wasn't only physical. His face and its seeming innocence, but if you looked hard enough you could see deviance written all over. His nose and its slight crookedness, probably broken in a fist fight. The way his eyes were like falling stars that couldn't hold themselves up anymore. If Chrys looked close enough, she could see were they had once brimmed. But now they were dim and tired, worn from years of regret and abuse.

"It's beautiful." Johnny commented after awhile.

Chrys nodded in agreement. "No kidding."

And they were silent again, staring up at the stars and the clouds and the sky.

If Chrys thought about it, she could see herself remaining friends with Johnny in the future. She could see themselves laughing in coffee shops, or meeting in diners for 1am breakfasts. Chrys could see going to the carnival with Johnny, and running around Bullworth causing trouble when they were teenagers. And that whole sensation was rare. Usually, Chrys had to think _real_ hard about it with other people.

Like Derby.

Or like Gary.

Or Pete.

People usually had a hard time appealing to Chrys, but Johnny didn't seem to have any problems with that. It was like they were meant to stay friends forever. Or maybe Chrys was just over reading the situation. (But hopefully not).

Honestly, Chrys just wanted someone to stick around for once. Through everything with her, and her parents, and her head, and her anger. Even when she was a kid other kids would try to be friends, and as soon as the waters got rough they turned around and left. Like nothing ever happened. No amount of friendship could tough-out Chrys' storm that was raging inside, and Chrys didn't know if it was because she was so sad all the time that people left, or because she was just boring.

She supposed it didn't matter much, anyway. But the thought of Johnny leaving her sent shivers up and down her spine. Was she too sad? Was she boring? Did the constant joking and angry make people leave? Because she would change for Johnny. She really would. (Even though she wouldn't. People never really change). And Chrys hoped that he would accept her as she was even if she couldn't change.

She wanted him.

He wanted her.

Slowly, she let her eyes fall onto Johnny. Eyes pointed up at the sky, and mouth slightly agape, taking in the view. Chrys wondered what he was thinking about. Was he thinking about things like she was? Probably not. Chrys thought boys didn't think about things like girls did, even if she was wrong entirely. She couldn't comprehend that Johnny might have the same thoughts, and be thinking about the same thing that she was. And when he looked at her, Chrys realized all at once that they did think the same thoughts.

Moments later, he dug in the pockets of his jacket for something. And when he pulled it out, Chrys cocked an eyebrow. Cigarettes. "I thought those were only for adults," Chrys said, watching as Johnny put one between his teeth, and lit it.

Johnny blew out smoke between chapped lips, and said, "They usually are. But everybody smokes in New Coventry."

"Everybody?"

"Everybody." Johnny nodded, holding out the cigarette to Chrys. "Want to try?"

Chrys didn't know what to do. She had seen her father smoking many times, but when she had stared at the designs the smoke made in the air, her father had told her to fuck off. Telling her that smoking was only for adults, and if he "ever caught Chrys with one" he would "beat the living shit out of" her. But Johnny was a safe place. He wouldn't let her take the cigarette, and then slap her upside the head.

So, Chrys took the cigarette in between two fingers.

Placing the thing between her lips, she sighed, and then breathed in.

The first thing that hit Chrys was an overwhelming sense of wooziness. It was like all the blood rushed to her head, and her throat closed off to compensate. Then the coughing started. Her chest felt like she had been hit by a big semi-truck, and was laying on the highway, road burned. Chrys couldn't breathe. And by the time she figured out how to inhale and exhale again, she felt light-headed and dizzy.

Quickly, she handed the cigarette back to Johnny and shook her head.

"Absolutely not."

Johnny laughed a little, and took a drag off of his cigarette. "What?"

"I'm never even looking at another one of those things again." Chrys said, trying to get the taste out of her mouth. "That's disgusting."

He smiled, and punched Chrys' shoulder. "Yeah, well, you promise you're never gonna smoke another one of these things again?"

"I promise. I'd rather die."

"Please don't die." he said softly, suddenly serious. "It wouldn't be the same without you."

"What wouldn't be the same?" Chrys asked, brow scrunched up.

"Life. Everything. The whole universe as I know it."

"Really?" she asked, never feeling wanted in her entire life.

"Yeah." he replied, wanting nothing more but to stay on that roof with Chrys forever.

Chrys smiled, and looked down at the shingles of the roof. Black shingles, black like her eyes. Johnny was such a sap sometimes, even if he didn't want to admit it. Greaser boys really knew how to make people feel secure, because they never knew how to feel secure themselves. Families too wishy-washy to lend any helping hands, so greaser boys had to learn the art of being sappy by themselves.

"Thanks."

Johnny blew out more smoke, creating the image of doves in the air.

"For what?" he asked.

"Making me feel..." but she stopped.

Cocking an eyebrow, he sat up straighter. "Feel what?"

"Never mind."

"You can't just start a sentence and then not finish it."

Chrys smiled a little, "I can do whatever I want."

Johnny scrunched his eyebrows in annoyance, "Honestly?"

"Love ya, Johnny." she said, smirking.

"Tell me." Johnny said. "You can literally tell me anything."

"Nah."

"Why not?"

Chrys shrugged.

"Tell me."

She shook her head, and felt a twinge in her chest.

"Tell me, please."

"Why?" Chrys said, staring at the frown on Johnny's lips.

"Because it'll bother me." Johnny said, staring at the smirk on Chrys' lips.

"Maybe I enjoy bothering you." she said.

And Johnny couldn't control himself any longer. Moments later, he felt himself lose his composer, and not long after lips crashed together. Two lonely hearts just looking for love in all the wrong places. Two young hearts not really sure of what love was yet. Johnny and Chrys. Vincent and Skelton. Lonely and young, but completely unaware of how much those two words impacted their identity.

Johnny was Chrys' second kiss. Chrys was Johnny's umpteenth kiss. But somehow, one some level, for both of them something was different. Something good. Johnny had kissed Lola, and Mary, and Peanut, and Jackie, and Lani, and Kerry, and Summer. But Chrys felt right. Kissing Chrys felt like lemonade on the hot day, like every inch of desire he had ever had was being quenched. And for Chrys, she had only ever kissed Gary. But Johnny's lips felt like the lock to her key, and she didn't want to ever let go.

For both of them, it felt like falling in love with their best friend, but neither of them knew it yet. As much as adulthood had ruined their childhoods, nothing could ever take away the innocence of a kid falling in love for the first time. Or what felt like falling in love. (Neither of them were ever, really, _truly_ going to be sure).

The few moments after their lips parted went spent breathing on one another, foreheads pressed together. Chrys wondered briefly if Johnny had been planning to kiss her all along. Johnny briefly wondered if Chrys had enjoyed the kiss. Both were right.

"Loved." Chrys said softly.

"What?" Johnny asked.

"You make me feel loved."

 _Loved_... what a strange emotion.

"You make me feel loved too." he said.

Smiling, they both laid back on the roof. Hands clasped together, and backs against the rough roof. Chrys could still taste the cigarette in her mouth, and wanted nothing more than to kiss Johnny to get rid of it. Johnny could always taste cigarette in his mouth, but he wanted to kiss Chrys just because.

She wanted him.

He wanted her.

And silence again. Just staring up at the starry night, wondered how in the hell two people could mean so much to each other.

Chrys had never felt more loved in her entire life. No amount of beatings from her father, or words of anger from her mother could bring her down. Johnny Vincent and Chrysanthemum Skelton. The dynamic duo. Two of the three musketeers, but not really needing a third. Chrys supposed if she had to pick a third, it would be Trent. But he didn't like Johnny much anyway, and Johnny didn't like him much either.

"Chrys?"

"Johnny."

He hesitated for a moment, then said, "What are we?"

Chrys thought for a moment. _What are we?_ Chrys supposed the questions answer laid in whatever Johnny _exactly_ meant by his question. The meaning of the question changed with the stress of a word.

"What do you mean?" Chrys asked, rolling on her side to face him.

"Like..." Johnny paused, copying Chrys' movements. "What... _are_ we?"

"Thanks, that really cleared it up."

"Oh, fight me." Johnny said, grow scrunched in thought. "I don't know how else to say it."

"Say it again."

"What _are_ we? _"_ he asked.

Chrys finally understood.

"I don't know." she whispered. "I'm still trying to figure that out."

And he kissed her again. She kissed back.

"The three musketeers?" she suggested.

"Who's the third?"

"We don't need one. We're tough."

Johnny nodded, smiling. "That makes sense."

"Really?" Chrys asked. "Because I'm just pulling analogies out of my ass at this point."

"Yeah? Well it doesn't seem like it." he laughed.

"Good."

"And can I ask you something?"

Chrys nodded. "Yeah, shoot."

"Do you promise to never leave?" Johnny asked, genuinely concerned that she might.

"I'll never leave." Chrys said, grabbing onto Johnny's hand. "I promise."

Johnny looked relieved.

"Can I ask you something?" Chrys asked.

He nodded.

"Promise _you'll_ never leave."

"I promise."

And this time, she kissed him.


	17. Halloween (16 years)

**October 31, 2013**

Huffing a cigarette, Chrys sat on the steps of the girls dorm. It was Halloween. At Bullworth Academy. That made Chrys want to die a little, if she was honest. But she was never honest, and nobody needed to know that.

 _Oh well._

For Halloween, Chrys wore a sheet with eyeholes and a mouth hole cut out for her costume. A ghost... or something. Gary had given it to her after an apology and a short kiss, telling her that he had bought everybody "in their little friend group" costumes. Jimmy's was a skeleton, his own was a... what? Nazi costume? (Chrys would have to smack some sense into that kid later). And Pete's was a surprise because it was _hilarious_ , apparently.

Forgiveness was a weird concept, Chrys thought, smoke hanging out of her mouth. Gary had snapped at her over a week before, and the fight had blown up massively. But he apologizes once and suddenly everything's fine? Yeah, that's what relationships are like, she supposed. It was weird. The whole concept of relationships and forgiving and trusting somebody so much. But whatever. At least Chrys didn't have to buy her own costume.

 _Score._

In the few minutes Chrys had been sitting on the steps, several pranks had already occurred. Halloween was a perfect time to pull pranks or beat up people because the prefects and teachers were off in little parties, or entertaining the younger kids. So, like the shitty place Bullworth was with its shitty students, kids were constantly causing trouble on Halloween. Itching powder, firecrackers, and stick bombs (oh my).

Bullworth Academy and Halloween didn't mix well. Or, depending on how you looked at it, they mixed too well.

But for Chrys, being unpopular in social standing with the majority of the kids who usually caused trouble on Halloween, she was often targeted for pranks. Which, obviously, meant she got pranked. Which lead to Gary getting angry, and pranked whoever pranked his girlfriend. WHICH lead to more people pranking Chrys.

Really, it was a vicious cycle.

Honestly, Chrys enjoyed avoiding as much confrontation on Halloween as possible. (She already did so much every other day of the year). But Gary wasn't like that. He liked causing trouble, and beating the shit out of kids who glanced at him the wrong way. He liked to steal things from rooms in the school, and nearly blow kids faces off. So Chrys doubted she was going to get any relaxation this holiday.

And without any hope of avoiding trouble, Chrys pushed herself up off of the stairs, and headed toward the boys dorm.

When Chrys arrived a minute or two later, she found Jimmy and Pete on the steps. One, red haired and laughing. The other, brown and on the verge of tears. The latter, named Pete, had already been thrown into a wall and punched a few times before Jimmy could do anything to stop it. His nose was bloody, and there was a gash down his cheek. But Chrys didn't think that's why he was so upset.

Jimmy's costume looked badass, honestly. He had a skintight (that part made Chrys _slightly_ uncomfortable), latex bodysuit on. This bodysuit was black all over, mind the white skeleton that had been painted in. Jimmy had decked out his face in paint too. He looked awesome, but Chrys could tell Pete had got the short end of the stick.

His costume wasn't even on a positive measuring scale. He was wearing a massive, pink rabbit costume. (Which already had blood on it). There wasn't anything even remotely noteworthy about the thing, except that it made Pete looked pathetic, and sad. Clearly, he was uncomfortable to be wearing the thing, but to not wear a costume on Halloween was almost certain death. So Pete supposed he had to deal with it. (But he just didn't understand why Jimmy and Chrys got cool costumes).

His distain with the costume was very much apparent when Chrys sat down next to him. Instead of moving away like he usually would when Chrys sat so close, he retracted into himself. Like a small dog who'd been kicked too many times. He hated it. And Gary for getting him it. And for making him wear it. Chrys could tell. She didn't blame him, honestly, and actually... felt bad for him. So, she wrapped an arm around his shoulders.

"Nice costume." she said.

"Shut up." Pete snapped, crossing his arms.

"No, no... I'm being serious. I think... it really a suits you."

Violently shrugging her arm off of his shoulders, Pete scoffed. "Whatever. Screw you."

"Don't be so rude, Petey." Chrys snapped back, snarling dangerously. "You might end up wearing more blood if you keep talking like that."

"Oh, bite me." Pete said, but he knew he really didn't mean it.

After a few minutes, Chrys heard the door creak open up the steps behind her, and out came Gary. Wearing his stupid nazi costume. She wanted to tell him to take it off. Tell him that it was insensitive ( _even I fucking know that, Gary_ ) because there were Jewish kids at the school (Pete was Jewish), and that was a rough time in history. But she knew he wouldn't listen, and it was a lost cause. So Chrys held her tongue.

"Nice costume, Pete." Gary commented slyly, as the three on the stairs stood to begin their walk around campus.

"I look like a jerk." Pete said sourly as he walked behind Jimmy and Chrys, Gary at his side. "I look like a joke."

"You look fine." Gary said, annoyance thick in his voice. "Don't be a baby."

"Whatever..."

 _Whatever._ That was like Pete's catchphrase or something. The kid never had any better comebacks. Maybe Chrys could teach him a thing or two soon.

Then came the pranks. The first person wanting a prank pulled for them was Pedro. He wanted Jimmy to put a "kick me" sign on someone's back, and Jimmy hastily complied. He found the weakest, unsuspecting person he could (Bucky) and taped the sign to his back carefully. Making sure not to alert Bucky of his presence. And after that, watched in laughter as several people went over to kick the kid in the back.

The next prank that came alone was given to Chrys by Casey. A massive jock with an intense hate for nerds, and anything even remotely against fitness. He wanted some people to get egged, but didn't want to do it himself. So Chrys agreed, obviously. Picking her three victims (who happened to be Pinky, Algie, and Lucky respectively), she shot the eggs into the air, and watched in glee as they landed straight on their targets.

Third, Jimmy got a prank handed to him by one of the nerds. Chrys couldn't tell who, because he had a mask on, but he had the nerdy voice she had grown to hate. His prank involved explosives. _Score_. The nerd wanted Jimmy to put a firecracker in the middle of a group of people, and watch as they got a face full of sparks. Jimmy nodded excitedly, and placed the firecracker in the midst four preps. Then... _BOOM_. The cracked exploded in all of their faces, sending three of them running in all different directions, and one of them to the ground.

And finally the fourth prank was given to the group by the nerd called Fatty. He handed Jimmy, Gary, and Chrys all a stink bomb and told them to hit whatever kid they could with it. Of course they all complied with little encouragement and set out on finding their victim. In the general vicinity, there were quite a few students. Naturally, Gary picked the jock in the area as his target. Chrys chose a nerd because _fuck nerds_. And Jimmy, who couldn't really care less, chose a non-clique student as his target. Despite social standings, all the kids screamed like babies. Chrys laughed her ass off.

A near five minutes later, the group found themselves in the Harrington House garden, staring at the local dog the preps had. Whether it was because they had moved there together as a group, or followed someone there, Chrys didn't know. But as soon as Gary realized where they were, he began thinking of a plan. Chrys could see it in his eyes. And moments later, was smiling big and broad. That's dangerous with Gary, and Chrys could already see Pete cringing at the thought.

"Okay, here's the plan..." Gary began, and Pete gritted his teeth. "We're gonna feed Chad's dog some of this rancid meat. Wait for him to take a dump, and then..."

"I'm gonna stop you there." Chrys interrupted. "I'm not handling dog shit."

"I'll do it." Gary said.

"Okay... but what... what the hell?" Pete questioned, gagging audibly at the thought. "I'm outta here."

Gary scowled as Pete ran off, but shook his head. "Whatever, Pete."

He then turned to Jimmy and Chrys, still scowling.

"C'mon, let's do this. I'll explain the rest later." he then turned toward the dog, and went off running. "Get over here you little mutt!"

Chrys didn't see the rest.

After a few minutes, Chrys glanced toward Jimmy and Gary. She cocked her head sideways, seeing a beaten up prep laying on the ground, and a bag full of shit in Jimmy's hands. But she knew better than to question it.

"We got it." Gary said as he and Jimmy made it to Chrys' side.

"I figured, considering Jimmy's holding a bag, and it smells... wonderful."

"Haha, funny."

Chrys smiled sweetly. "Thanks, I try."

"Now, where are we going with this?" Jimmy asked, clearly disgusted by the bag in his hand. "Somewhere... close preferably."

"The teachers lounge." Gary answered, and Chrys all at once knew what they were going to do.

Avoiding several pranks along the way, the trio eventually arrived at the doorway of the teachers lounge. There was music beyond the door, and the distinct sound of children faking laughter. Such was Halloween for kids at Bullworth. Chrys could remember her first Halloween at Bullworth, but quite honestly she didn't like to think about it. However, what the group was about to do with that dog shit bag would let the kids have, at least, a moment of relief.

Jimmy dropped the bag in front of the door. "What're we doing?" he asked.

"Don't worry." Gary smirked, and when Gary said don't worry, usually people started to worry. "It'll be fun. Pull the fire alarm."

Moments later, the blaring sound was ringing through the school, and Burton stepped out of the lounge. Upon seeing the small fire that was the dog bag, he instinctually began to stomp out the fire. He instantly regretted it. Dog shit was suddenly spewed up the wall, and door, and... disgusting... all up his legs. Chrys nearly vomited at the thought. But didn't have much time to wallow in her pity, because Burton was already running toward her, screaming.

Gary had already disappeared somewhere, so Jimmy and Chrys went off running. Laughing about the unfortunate new _skin treatment_ Burton had experienced. Sure, it wasn't the most original prank in the world, but nothing could compare to seeing one of her most hated teachers screaming because there was shit running down his legs.

The chase continued for about five minutes, before Burton lost his breath, and the pair was able to cut through the library backroad to get onto one of the secret paths of Bullworth. This particular one lead down to the old observatory the nerds used as a hangout, and Jimmy had never seen the observatory. Chrys suggested they walked down the path, since beside the observatory was the football field, and from there they could go back to the dorms. Jimmy agreed, and so began their "adventure."

About half way down the path, Jimmy glanced at Chrys and said, "How long have you been going here for?"

Chrys thought for a moment, "Like... seven years."

"That's a lot of time to spend in a shit show like this." he said, smiling.

"No kidding."

"And how long have you lived in Bullworth?"

"The same amount of time." Chrys said, quickly adding. "I moved here a couple months before fifth grade started."

"Jesus..." he said.

"What?"

"That's just... a long time to be going to this place. I can't imagine." Jimmy said, shrugging. "I mean, I've been here, what? Maybe a couple months and I've already almost been killed a few times."

"Yeah..." Chrys said, uncomfortable, but not enough to stop talking. "I've had my fair share of run ins with homicidal psychopaths."

"Any stories to tell?" he asked, sensing something deep rooted within Chrys that was bothering her.

"Maybe one day." she said, smiling. "You got any?"

"One day." Jimmy mocked.

"Ah, I see how it's gonna be."

"Well..." he began, but then stopped.

"Well, what?"

"There is one."

"Lemme hear it. I'm your personal therapist."

Jimmy cracked a crooked smile, hanging his head. "Um...where to start? Well... back in Liberty there was this creepy guy that always hung around my... fourth? Fifth school? Ah, whatever. One of my schools had this creepy guy out back. He had this gross beard, and he always wore this nasty wife beater. Mostly everybody was afraid of him. Once he beat the living shit outta a couple girls because they wouldn't "cater" to his advances. Y'know... stuff like that.

"Anyways, so I would walk to school with this girl in my first period class. She asked if I could walk her to school, because the door she came in was the door right by the old man. She was afraid of him like everyone else. Her name was Emily, and I walked her to school for nearly six months during the year. We never hung out outside of that time, but she was a nice kid. Had a good head on her shoulders. Honour roll, class president, all that good stuff.

"Well, one day, I told her I wasn't going to make it in time to get her, and still be on time. Emily told me it was fine, and that one day wasn't going to make _that_ much of a difference. But when I got into class that day, she wasn't there. I wouldn't usually care, she skipped class sometimes to go out back with a couple of her "delinquent" friends and smoke, but I knew that she wouldn't ever miss a class on Monday. Especially not math."

Chrys could see where the story was going, and scrunched her eyebrows a little in worry.

"So..." and then, Chrys could hear Jimmy's voice shift. Something like regret, or sorrow. "Then I went out back after first period to see if... the worst had happened. Sure enough, I found her laying behind the dumpster. There was blood everywhere. I can't even describe it. It was like the guy had hit her so hard every blood vessel in her body popped, and sent the blood shooting up the walls. She was passed out too, he had hit her so much...

"I was furious. I hated that guy. He was a fucking creep, hitting on teenaged girls and telling 'em off or attacking when he didn't get his way. The school never did anything about it, and he just kept... doing. I... went off. I remember hitting the guy so hard on the first swing that I felt his nose shatter underneath my fist. Then after that I don't remember all that much, except how pummeled the guy was after. Shattered nose, broken teeth, broken ribs... everything was broken. Including my knuckles...

"I got expelled after that." Jimmy ended simply, voice suddenly back to normal. "My mom slapped me, went out to the bar, and met her fortieth husband."

 _Silence_.

"Was... she okay? Emily, I mean." Chrys inquired.

Jimmy shrugged. "Okay enough." he said, "She had these massive wounds all over, but other than that no real damage."

"That's heavy, man." she shook her head. "Fuck those kinds of people."

"Yeah..." Jimmy said, shaking his head. " _Fuck 'em_."

A few minutes later, they arrived at the fence of the observatory. The thing was surrounded by massive, castle like gates that kept unwanted visitors out. Ernst had made the whole thing. His famous security system, with its potato gun turret on top, scared few people. But kept them out.

"Is it everything you hoped for, Jimmy?" Chrys asked, arms opened wide in grander.

Jimmy shrugged, "A little more rotten than I thought, but it's alright."

"I'm glad you think so."

They stood staring for a moment before Chrys broke the silence.

"Think it's about time to head back? It's almost..." she checked her phone. "... midnight."

"Nah, let's stay out a little longer... unless you're tired."

Chrys shook her head. "I could go a few more hours."

"Sweet."

"What d'you wanna do?" she asked.

"Know any good spots to avoid prefects?"

She smiled, nodding. "Of course. I'm a fucking star, baby. I know all the hiding places this school has."

"Great. Lead on." Jimmy smiled.

Chrys wrapped an arm around his shoulders, and together they walked into the artificial light of the football field.


	18. The Hole (16 years)

**November 6, 2013**

Everyone has a fear.

No matter how big or small it is. Spiders, the dark, failure, heights, isolation... Really, anything someone can think of, someone else probably has a fear of it. For example, people with hypnophobia were afraid of sleeping. Seems simple for some, but for others the terrors of night come in succession and constantly, never ending. (Can you imagine being afraid of a healthy, normal function?)

Chrys couldn't imagine it. Being afraid of some small thing like that, she thought. She was only afraid of the big things. But the big things lurked unseen, somewhere deep within her brain. _That's why people think I'm fearless_ , Chrys thought. _I'm emotionally inarticulate, and I can't express fears in a linear, easy-to-understand way_.

Kids at Bullworth, several times, had come up to Chrys with stupid faces and asked, "How are you afraid of nothing?" Chrys hadn't known what to say. Yeah, she did fear things. But how do you tell a ten year old that _I do actually. I fear getting beat. I'm afraid that one day I'll push someone too far, and they'll kill me. I'm scared that someone will stop loving me, and I won't know what to do. I fear that Gary will stop loving me, because it's been heading down that road for a long time._

How do you tell a kid that? Chrys could hear the conversation now...

 _What does "getting beat" mean?_

 _My father hits me when he's angry. I'm scared of him doing it again, even though he always will, and I know it._

And... _Why would Gary stop loving you?_

 _Because he thinks I'm cheating. He thinks I've stopped liking him. He's wrong. I don't know what to tell him. I can't tell him anything._

And that was the thing about having a rep at Bullworth. Once Chrys had kept it up for so long, it was hard to stray far. But she supposed dwelling on that wouldn't do her much good anyway, so she let her eyes fall on the sky above her. Reality felt altered. Chrys didn't know how, or why. It just felt... different. Strange. Chrys really couldn't put her finger on it.

"Chrys?"

She turned her head, and saw Norton standing there, a questioning look on his face.

"Wassup?" Chrys asked, patting the bench beside her. "Come. Sit."

Norton complied, and took a seat next to Chrys. He smelt of smoke and cologne. Some cheap brand you could get at the grocery stores in New Conventry. All the greasers wore it. Chrys figured he was trying to cover up the stench of cigarettes and sweat, but it hadn't worked that well.

"What're doin' up so early?" Norton asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

"I could ask you the same thing."

"Well..." Norton shifted uncomfortably, lifting his hand to pick at a loose thread on his jacket. "Ajay — "

Ajay was Norton's older brother. He was three years Norton's senior, and (after their parents had died in a car crash on the highway) Ajay had to take over the responsibility of the kids. Norton had four siblings, so there were five kids in total that Ajay had to take care of. Himself, Norton (who was seventeen), June (who was fifteen), Clayton (who was thirteen), and Ingrid (who was also thirteen). They ran out of money real quick, and Ajay had to drop out of school to make sure they had enough to get the essentials.

He worked three minimum wage jobs, didn't have a car, and was practically never around. Chrys had met Ajay a couple of times, and before the crash he was really nice. Genuine smiles, genuine laughs, dimples. But after he wasn't the same. Stress took over, and suddenly Ajay snapped at people. Like, he was still one of the nicest people Chrys had met in Bullworth, but he didn't take bullshit anymore. If Norton fucked up, or June, he'd kick them out for a night. Just to make sure they didn't do whatever they did again.

" — kicked me out last night." Norton said.

"What'd you do?"

"He found out about the party I threw a couple weeks ago." he said, smiling. "Someone broke a vase, I guess."

Norton had to be one of those fearless people, if there were such a thing. He's been through hell and back and was still rocking life. She rarely ever saw him depressed, but maybe it was just a facade. That's what a lot of the greasers did.

"Where'd you spend the night then?"

"My car."

"Sucks." Chrys laughed. "Man... you gotta stop causing trouble."

"Says you."

Chrys smirked, rolling her eyes. "Touché."

xxxxxxxxxx

Halfway through biology class, Chrys' phone began having a seziure. She handed Johnny the scalpel, and pulled the thing out of her pocket. On the screen, there were about thirty unread messages. All from Gary. Chrys cringed at the prospect that she might've pissed him off somehow, but pushed the fear back.

[Text]: _Chrys._

 _Chrys._

 _Chrys._

 _Answer your phone. I need to talk to you._

 _Chrysanthemum Skelton. Answer you ducking phone._

 _Your* fucking*_

 _Pick up. Please._

 _CHRYS!_

 _For fucks sake, just aNsWEr!_

 _Wanna hear a joke? How long does it take for Chrysanthemum to answer her phone?_

 _Too long._

 _I could be dying right now, and you'd never know._

 _A. N. S. W. E. R._

 _M. E._

 _P. L. E. A. S. E._

[Text]: _Jesus Christ, Gary. What do you want?_

Immediately after Chrys had turned off her phone, it buzzed again.

[Text]: _At lunch, come down to the hole. I've found something AMAZING._

 _PLEASE._

[Text]: _Jesus. Fine. I'll be there._

And moments after, once again, after Chrys had placed her phone onto the counter, another text from Gary popped up on the screen.

[Text]: _I'll see you then._

Chrys sighed, and right as she was beginning to dissect the rat in front of her, the bell rang. This prompted Johnny to immediately throw the limp body into the disposing bucket, and throw all the tools in the tray _without_ washing them. And Chrys didn't want to wash them either, so they both left immediately, only stopping to throw their lab coats up on the rack by the front of the classroom.

The hole, as Gary had mentioned in his text, was something the Bullworth students weren't supposed to know about. But Neil had told Christy about it once, and then Christy told EVERYONE. Then, it became a hotspot for scraps students couldn't have in sight of the prefects, or even just a hangout spot for those willing enough to go down by themselves. The whole thing kind of creeped Chrys out, but she supposed if Gary was down there it must not have been that bad. Plus, during the day the hole was a lot less creepy, if she was honest.

Basically what the hole was was quite literally _a hole_ in the ground, made of concrete. It was in the basement, down a few winding hallways, and down a set of stairs. There was about an inch of water at the bottom of the hole at any given time that smelt like ass. Chrys didn't know if that was because it was like... Bullworth's sewage system or what, but whatever it was made her want to vomit.

Ten minutes later, Chrys found herself standing about three feet above the ground of the hole. Jimmy, and Gary were standing in the centre, Gary gesturing wildly.

When Chrys jumped down to the floor of the hole, and got closer, she could hear Gary saying things... Weird things.

"This is where I stand up to you, friend." he was saying.

Jimmy shot him a look, "What're you talking about?"

"Yeah." Chrys said, pipping up as various people from all the cliques ran down the stairs, forming a circle around the edge of the hole. "What are you talkin' about?"

"I know ya hate me, Jimmy boy." Gary said, and by the way he was speaking Chrys could tell he was off his meds. _For fucks sake_. "I know you said all that stuff about me behind my back. And you — " Gary spun around violently, pointing a finger at Chrys' chest. " — You and him have been hanging around too much behind my back!"

"Gary — what the fuck are you talking about?" Jimmy was yelling now, eyebrows scrunched angrily.

Spinning back around, Gary took a few violent steps toward Jimmy, shoving him backwards. "Don't play innocent with me... You want Chrys, you can have her, alright? But you wanna run this school, I wanna run this school... only one of us is gonna make it."

He began his ascent up the ladder, yelling, "AND IT'S GONNA BE ME."

 _You want Chrys, you can have her._

Chrys supposed the two hers they had been together meant nothing anymore.

"Ladies and gentleman, boys and morons, I give you..." _pause_. "RUSSELL!"

Everybody surrounding the hole began clapping, and Chrys felt like the noise was going to burst open her eardrums. Everything felt too loud. Even as Jimmy grabbed her arm and shoved her back away from Russell, she couldn't seem to focus on anything but the blaring thunder in her head.

"Fucking..." Jimmy said, backing hurriedly away from Russell. "Gary — now I hate you!"

"I know." Gary responded smugly. "Now, Russell, go beat those little jerks that said those nasty things to me about your mom, and those barnyard animals!"

"What?!" Russell yelled, beating his chest like an ape. "Come here... Russell wants vengeance!"

It wasn't until the moment that Russell's fist made contact with the bridge of Chrys' nose and she heard a loud crunch, did she wake the _fuck_ back up. It wasn't until moments later that when she was stumbling back, clutching her bleeding nose, did she realize something. The brunette boy with the large scar over his eye, and paranoia run way too deep, had didn't actually _love_ Chrys.

He never had.

Memories flooded back like the blood flooding down Chrys' face, and moments later her eyes were watering. She didn't know if it was the sole fact her nose had been shattered, or because she realized somebody she had spent six years of her life with was a waste, but she sucked them back in. Tears were weakness, and Chrys didn't want Gary thinking she was crying over a boy. Let alone him.

Blood clots were smacking down on the ground around Chrys'a feet when she looked up from her hands, Russell's bloodied knuckles inches away from another hit. _BAM._ Another hit her underneath the cheek bone. But Chrys couldn't feel the hurt. All she could do was remember back to the old days with Gary. Two years ago. Two years where he hadn't even ached to hold her like she ached to hold him. Or to have her head against his chest as they watched the sunset together.

She thought back to all those times Gary had called her _baby_ , or _babe_. Had he meant that? No. Or when Gary would turn to her in the light of the fading moon and say, "We're perfect for each other, ya know?" as if he actually believed it himself. Everything he said had been lies. And Chrys couldn't forgive herself for believing any of them. This realization came with no thunder to accompany it, but she felt her entire being shake just the same.

Gary Smith had never actually been excited to see her after a long day. He wouldn't care as she walked into his dorm room and plopped herself down on the bed. He'd never felt a flutter in his heart whenever Chrys said his name, or told him that his smile rivaled the brilliance of the stars, and he had never meant it when Gary said Chrys was the one who was brilliant.

No, Gary Smith hadn't ever loved Chrys.

Not even a little bit.

Chrys took another few steps away from Russell, head snapping back toward him. There was blood all the way down her front now, just stopping short of her shirt. And all at once Chrys realized that if they were going to win in a fight against Russell, they were going to have to do it together. No exceptions. So, watching Jimmy blocking Russell but just barely for a few moments, Chrys thought of a plan.

"Russell! You big ape!"

Moments later, and before Chrys could even register what was happening, Russell was running at her. Head down, fists clenched, as if he was going to ram her directly into the wall. Chrys jumped quickly out of the way, rolling through the shit smelling water. Russell went running head first into the cement wall, and moments later Chrys was being tugged up. Jimmy was the owner of the hands, and he shot her a concerned look.

"I'm fine." Chrys said quickly. "Now, we gotta get Russell down together, alright?"

"Yeah... yeah... How do you suggest we do that?"

"Keep getting 'im to run into walls."

Jimmy nodded, "Yeah, sounds good."

It took nearly ten minutes, but taking longer was always better than getting pummeled along the way. After Russell had rammed his head into the cement for the umpteenth time, he fell to his knees, a giant gash on his scalp bleeding profusely. Then, Jimmy took a piece f plywood from the ground, and smashed the thing over Russell's head. He didn't stay up for long after that, and moments later the crowd was cheering again.

"You happy now, freak?" Jimmy shouted.

Gary was laughing along with the crowd, but he looked angry. The two emotions certainly didn't mix, and Chrys wondered why he always did that. "Ecstatic! I love seeing morons beat the shit outta each other!"

"Why'd you do it, Gary? I thought we were friends."

He laughed, this time, however, he was the only one laughing. "Friends? You and me? I've taken dumps that have had more brains than you, 'friend'."

Jimmy waved him off angrily, shooting the kid above him daggers.

"Nah... I'm taking over this school." Gary said, shooting daggers right back at Jimmy and Chrys. "And both of you are just liabilities!"

"Man, fuck you!" Chrys yelled at him, watching through blurry eyes as he walked away.

"See ya around, morons."

And just like that, Gary was gone. Moment later, most everybody cleared out of the hole, wanting to make it on time to their second class of the day. But Pete stuck around. He looked sad and exhausted, but cheered, shouting, "Well done, guys!" as if he and Jimmy hadn't just lost a friend, and Chrys hadn't lost her boyfriend.

"Yeah, great." Jimmy said, rubbing the back of his head. "What a waste of time. You alright, Russell?"

He then helped the big guy up, and cringed a little at the blood pouring in steady lines down Russell's forehead. He'd probably need stitches, and Chrys would probably have to get her nose fixed up. All three of them looked pretty roughed up.

"Yeah..." Russell said slowly.

"Listen..." Jimmy started, "Neither of us said anything about your mom, or about farm yard animals, okay?"

"You... didn't?"

"No. And I want you to stop picking on weak kids."

Russell looked offended, as if the prospect of leaving kids alone was too much for his tiny brain to handle. "Why?"

"Because there's tons of other kids in this place that deserve a beating, and you're picking on the few who don't." Jimmy snapped. "So I want to you leave me," he pointed to himself, "her," he then pointed toward Chrys, "and him," Pete waved excitedly as the mention of himself being included, "alone."

"Oh... okay. Sorry. Bad Russell."

Chrys got a little defensive when Russell shot out his hand to shake hers, but a few moments after, pressed her hand into his. It was weird... shaking hands with a violent clique leader, that was. And Chrys felt fearless in that moment. Like sure, she'd been dumped in front of most of the school, and sure, her nose was shattered. But at least she could comfortably say she'd shaken hands with Russell the destroyer and lived.

Yes, everyone on the planet sure did have a fear. Even the ones who seemed like they didn't. But Chrys had faced hers.

She wasn't afraid of Gary anymore.


	19. Story (16 years)

**November 11, 2013**

"Hey, Jimmy?"

Chrys' voice rung out on the darkness, mildewy grass curled underneath sweaty fingers. Jimmy jumped a bit at the suddenness of her voice, but he turned to look at her. Her eyes were glowing against the starlit sky, and Pete's head was on her shoulder. Chrys' lips were parted ever so slightly, but when she realized Jimmy was looking, she shut them quickly. Eyes flickered to Jimmy, and she smiled.

"What's up?" Jimmy asked.

"And Pete." she said, nudging his head off of her shoulder. He groaned a bit, but didn't protest much. "I... want to say something... to you guys."

"You never stop saying things." Pete commented, rubbing his eyes, and Chrys smirked.

"Yeah, well this time it's different, alright? It's not useless, it's... something legit."

Pete took a look at Chrys features for a moment, and realized she looked younger. Less angry. Her face looked softened for once, and Pete thought that this might've been the only time he'd ever seen her like that.

"I dunno where to start..." she sputtered nervously, again, the only time Pete had heard her do that. "It's kinda hard for me to get out, ya know? It's like, I really like you guys — " she thought for a moment, staring up at the sky. "I like being around you, right? And most everybody else is sorta just like _meh_ , but you guys aren't. I dunno."

Chrys paused for a moment to collect her thoughts, tracing out shapes in the sky with the stars and her eyes, wondering seriously if there was anyone else out there. Aliens, UFO's, planets maybe just like earth that made people hard and sad, but happy and soft all at once. She couldn't even comprehend the possibilities.

"Again, it's hard for me to explain... It's uncomfortable. But I think you guys are... um... Back when... back when me and Johnny and Lola were friends, I had this feeling in my chest whenever I saw them that made me sorta... weird, ya know?"

She couldn't explain it properly, but the feeling was a sort of dull aching that felt good.

"And they were really the only friends I had at the time. And when I met you, Pete, I got that feeling in my chest, but I ignored it because I thought you were a loser. I was really weird back then. Then when I met you, Jimmy, I got the same feeling again and _again_ I ignored it because I'm fucked up or something, and can't see friends worth keeping even if one stabbed me in the throat." Chrys said. "And I never really felt that feeling with Gary, ya know? And I think that's why it didn't work out."

"That, maybe. But he's also a psycho." Jimmy stated bluntly, as if Chrys didn't already know.

"True." Pete agreed.

"Yeah..." Chrys said, nodding. "But he's besides the point. What I'm trying to say is... I think you guys are my — fuck... best friends. I dunno."

The whole prospect of being someone's best friend made Pete's heart begin to race, and Jimmy just smiled.

"It's weird. I dunno. I can't like... It's just... so out in the open now, ya know?" _Pause_. "Like... I think I've known for awhile now that you guys are my... best friends, but it just feels different to say it out loud and to your faces. Stranger, but also good."

Pete was smiling now, fingernails picking nervously at the grass beneath his hands. They were sat by the old observatory, just passed midnight. Pete hadn't initially wanted to come, but he was glad he did. One, he couldn't stand being in a room with Gary for more than ten seconds now because he didn't _have_ to. And two, Chrysanthemum Skelton was finally opening up a little. Not too much that she would crack the reputation she had built up over the years, but just enough.

There was a comfortable silence in the air for a moment, and Chrys fell backwards onto the ground. Her neck was uncovered, the wet grass beneath tickling it. She couldn't believe she had told them they were her best friends. It felt nice, having that realization off of her chest, that is. It felt different, yet the same. Comfortable, yet tense.

"I think... you are my best friends too." Jimmy's voice came through the darkness weakly, but still happy.

"Ditto." Pete agreed, and Chrys couldn't help but let a smile overtake her face.

"And, apart from that..." Chrys was saying again, this time looking not at the stars, but passed them. "I just... wanted to thank both of you."

"For what?" Pete asked, trying to see exactly what Chrys was looking at.

"Uh... thank you for trying to make me feel better. It... means a lot to me."

"That's what friends are for." Jimmy said, shrugging. "There's nothing to thank us for."

Chrys thought for a moment, then said, "I trust you guys, y'know? Like... a lot."

"I would hope so, y'know, being _best_ friends an' all."

"Well... I've been thinking lately, and I can't stop thinking about Emily."

Pete looked confused, but Jimmy just nodded, saying, "And?"

"I want to tell you guys something, because you both have told me something." Chrys said, almost regretting it, but not enough to try and stop herself. "And I think it's only fair if it goes both ways."

"Well... lemme hear it. I'm your personal therapist." Jimmy said, referencing Halloween night before Chrys was all off and funny. "You can tell me anything."

"Well... I don't really know what to talk about. I guess... I guess I'll just start out with something obvious: my parents hit me. And when I say hit, I mean _hit_. Not a smack once or twice a year, I mean almost every time I'm home. Almost every time I do something wrong. Almost every time I look at my father wrong when he's drunk, or my mother wrong when she's high. It's constant, and I don't know what to do to stop it."

Jimmy looked startled, Chrys had expected that much, but she didn't know why Pete looked startled. He knew about it beforehand. He'd known for years. But what Chrys would never know was that Pete had almost forgotten. She seemed normal enough for how much the beatings happened, so it was easy to forget. But suddenly she was talking about it, and Pete was taken aback. He'd never heard her _say it_ before. Never out loud.

"I can't... stop it. And I can't tell any adults because it'll find its way back to my father, and he'll hit me even more for telling. He won't ever get punished because he's high ranking, and that... it... _s_ cares me... there's parents out there who beat their kids and never get caught because it's engrained in the kids not to tell, or they just can't tell because it'll come back and bite them.

"That's fucking terrifying to me. And I feel... most of the time, that I can't even tell anyone about my fear because everyone around here is a blabber mouth, and I can't let my reputation slip." Chrys' words were getting loose, and more sloppy. "It's driving me mental. I don't go to bed without thinking, " _Oh, I hope he doesn't hit me tomorrow_." even though I literally do not have to worry about that here, and that's fucked up. It's so fucked that I've let my parents control me that much.

"And the worst part isn't even me, it's that we brought Trent into it. Before my father and his mother were married, he was happier, y'know? Like sure, she's a bitch, but he'd never been hit. And suddenly there's this new, angry, drunk man, and Trent's getting beat every other day. It pisses me off so much, but I can't do anything, and I probably wouldn't even if I could.

"Trent could be himself before my father barged in. His mother's a piece of shit sometimes, but she's never tried to change Trent in ways that he can't be changed. Like once, Trent brought home this guy and introduced him, and he was really nice. I don't even remember his name, but I remember my father came into Trent's room while we were all upstairs, and they were holding hands. He flipped shit. He threw the kid out, and called Trent all kinds of things, and beat him so bad he could barely stand. I... it was so bad."

She paused for a moment, trying to recollect her thoughts.

"Why... did he flip out?" Pete asked, full well already knowing the answer, but honestly just wanting conformation.

"He's... so fucking intolerant. Like... I can't even put into words how he is with that sort of thing." Chrys said, running her hands through her hair, frustrated. "He's awful. I fucking hate him." But she knew she was lying to herself, she didn't think she could ever hate her parents. "But — anyways... yeah." Her voice was suddenly back to normal. "That's what I wanted to tell you guys to even it out."

There was no uncomfortable silence. It was a peaceful one. Chrys was _almost_ glad she had finally told someone, finally got it off her chest. Really, there were a few people who knew. Johnny, Gary, Lola, and a few others, but now Jimmy and Pete. Her best friends. It was hard for Chrys to talk about it most of the time. But even when she did, most people didn't believe it. Most people thought she was lying.

But Jimmy knew she wasn't.

He could see it in the way she held herself, and spoke, and acted. She was basically a walking poster child for abuse. Even the scars on her body held secret stories that Jimmy had barely read. He should've known she was being hit, but he couldn't bring himself to actually believe it, until she had said it out loud.

"Anything else you want to say?" Jimmy asked, words breathy and lost.

Chrys shook her head, "No. I think I'm good for now."

"What about you?" Jimmy asked Pete.

"I got nothing to say." he said. "And you?"

"Maybe later." Jimmy said slowly, looking at Chrys in the darkness and all at once realizing that the light her eyes were once reflecting was gone. "I don't wanna ruin this moment."

And Chrys fell back into the ground, eyes gazing sadly at the sky above.


	20. Rich Kid Blues (16 years)

**November 19, 2013**

Her knuckles hit the leathered cotton, and Jimmy, who sat a couple feet away, reverberated. Chrys' knuckles were bruised. Hit after hit against the punching bag, she could feel the skin across bone splitting open under the pressure. But she wouldn't stop; not after what that moronic-piece-of-garbage-Gary-fucking-Smith had done to her earlier that day. In class. In front of literally everybody. Chrys couldn't believe it, and her skin flushed red at the thought. It was over. The relationship was over, but Gary had never really stopped picking fights.

For awhile after the breakup, Gary had skipped out on all his classes. Nobody saw him for days, and when he finally came back, he was different. Weirder. He had the teachers wrapped around his finger, and the students seemed to bow down in his shadow. But not Chrys, or Jimmy, or Pete: they were smarter than that. But Gary didn't like that, and Chrys could tell.

Chrys threw another punch at the bag, and upon feeling Jimmy's gaze on her, grunted.

"What's up, Jim?"

"The inbred morons are coming." he said.

Another punch, and Chrys was back in her thoughts. Back to Gary. Even though Gary was so far away and she didn't want to dwell on what could have been, she was angry.

Gary wasn't one to hold back when he was angry. One too many times, Chrys had pissed Gary off in a fit of jealous rage, or something else, and he had gone off. She didn't want to get into the details of it, but the things he said in those episodes hurt more than any fist Chrys had ever had in contact with her face, and that was saying something.

In math class, halfway through, Gary had another one of his episodes.

There was dust dancing in the pale sunlight, and Chrys' eyes were fixated on the branches outside the window. Hattrick had been droning on and on about polynomials and how to factor them, when the door swung open and in stepped a prefect with his hand latched on a green sweater. And when the boy realized that the only spot available was the seat next to his ex-girlfriend, a scared eyebrow raised, and a smirk spread across chapped lips.

He made his way over, and the whole room seemed to blur into one picture. Kids in other pairings whispered, and Hattrick seemed obvious to the fact that Chrys' face had shifted from blankness to disgust in moments. Gary sat down smoothly, in the chair to the right of Chrys, and they both stared forward. No exchanges, no bullshit. That's the way Gary always ran with people he didn't like, and Chrys supposed she had become one of those people.

At exactly ten passed two, the episode began, and it lasted for a few minutes before Chrys was escorted out of the classroom, leaving a cloud of laughter in her tracks.

It started simple. Gary picking a fight because Chrys' pencil was apparently _two centimeters_ over the middle line. Chrys moved it. Gary rolling his pencil over the middle, and turning to Chrys smugly, waiting for a response. Chrys ignored it. Gary leaning in real close, and whispering, "I remember when you used to find me endearing." Chrys turning back to him, and, quite harshly, saying, " _Eat. Shit_."

Back in reality, Chrys felt a rough hand on her shoulder. It was callused, probably from years of scraping on streets, and was firm. It was a preps, and when he spun Chrys around the smell of the expensive cologne hit her like a train. Jimmy was standing, and his chest was puffed up primally, as if to assert his dominance. Not like he needed to with boys like the preps, but Jimmy didn't know that.

"We have a proposition for you." Tad said, in all his fake-British glory.

"Oh yeah?" Jimmy said. "And what's that?"

Gary twirled a piece of Chrys' hair in his fingers.

"You were always so cute when you got angry, ya know that?" Gary said. "Everyone else is... afraid of you, but me — I never was."

Chrys turned to him, glaring daggers. "Why don't you just leave me alone, huh?"

Gary smirked, and then said loudly, "At least I'm not a fucking psycho like you."

The whisperings around the room went silent, and Hattrick turned angrily. But Gary wasn't deterred, and he had won already.

"Remind me, did you lose your mind after your father hit you across the face for the first time, or when you got so drunk that you vomited on a prefects shoes?"

Chrys was silent, eyes fixed on the scar Gary had underneath his hairline. She could remember months before studying the thing like it was the last thing she might do, but then, in that classroom, the scar was annoying. It made her want to scream her head off, and drill a hole in it until the headache was gone. Except, in this metaphor, her head wouldn't actually pop off, and Gary was the headache she was trying to get rid of.

"No, it was after I met you." Chrys spat. "You seem to have that affect on people."

"Affect or effect? I seem to remember you always having trouble telling the difference."

Chrys scoffed, voice slightly raised. "Attacking my grammar now, are we? Oh what a level you've sunken to, Gary Smith."

"And what level is that?"

"The one that's pathetic. Because you know damn well everybody in this school hates you, and thinks you're a joke." Chrys said, unaware of Hattrick's hand which was about to land on her shoulder. "I may be a psychopath, but at least I'm not a fucking loser."

The heavy hand of the math teacher latched onto Chrys' shoulder, and with a yank she was out of her seat. Gary, smugly, waved, and with no hesitation looked back down at his math homework, already done in cursive. Chrys on the other hand, was shoved out of the classroom briskly, and she left in a cloud of laughter.

But she didn't want to think about that. Especially not there, in public.

"So, what d'you say, Chrys?"

The voice was so sudden and harsh, that it knocked Chrys straight out of her trance. Tad was the one who had spoken, and had his hip jetted out and his arms crossed. Eyebrows raised, lips pursed, just like his father taught him.

"Uh..." Chrys sputtered. "What?"

"What do you mean, _what?_ " Tad asked, annoyed.

"What do you think I mean, Tad? It wasn't rhetorical."

Rolling his eyes, Tad shifted his weight from his right foot to his left foot, and then back again. Chrys had noticed he did that when he was uncomfortable... and she didn't know if it was the fake British accent, or that fact that he scoffed every time someone spoke, but Tad was probably one of the most pretentious people she'd ever met.

"About the plan. To get back at Hattrick."

Chrys' ears perked at that man's name. _Hattrick_. And all at once the rage she felt in that math classroom flooded her again, and her eyes got fuzzy. Jimmy could see it, Tad could see it. And when she clenched her fist almost involuntarily, Tad winced... as if _he_ , the most (in his words) amazing boxer in all of Bullworth, and Maine, was afraid of some lowlife street fighter. But Chrys didn't notice.

Instead, there was a ringing in her ears. And before one of the preps could ask, "Excuse me, what the _hell_ is wrong with you?" she answered.

"Hattrick needs to pay." Chrys said, an eerie tone in her voice.

Tad smiled, "So are you, as they say, _in_?"

Chrys looked up at him, a devilish smirk playing on her lips.

"Yes I am."

The plan was simple. Jimmy and Chrys were to get a carton of eggs from the store across the street from the boxing gym. After that, the two of them would make their way to Tad Spencer's house, where there they would all travel together to Hattrick's house. There, they would full out rampage on the house; throwing eggs onto any and all surfaces they possibly could, then booking it before the police came.

After Chrys had dropped ten dollars on a carton of eggs, she and Jimmy walked — well, ran — the rest of the way up into Old Bullworth Vale toward Tad's house. Along the way, they passed Chrys' house, and without even a quick glance at it, the pair ran by. Up the hill, toward an open gate down by the end of the lane.

Tad, accompanied by Chad and Parker, was standing on his front steps when Jimmy and Chrys walked up. He greeted them almost too excitedly, and held out his hand. Jimmy looked at him puzzled, and for a hot minute Chrys didn't really know what he wanted either.

"The eggs — " Tad said, eyeing the both of them. "Do you have them?"

Jimmy nodded, holding out the plastic bag he had. "You bet." he said, and before he could say anything else, Tad was grabbing them. "Jes — "

"Give them to me!" Tad said, antsy, as if he didn't grab them within the next two milliseconds they might disappear forever.

"Take them!" Jimmy spat, shoving the bag toward Tad.

And Tad, who now held the carton of eggs in his hands after discarding the bag on the ground, stared at the thing in his hands almost... lovingly? _What the fuck_ , Chrys thought, eyes locked on his face. But... whatever. It really wasn't any of her business what Tad and eggs did in their spare time. Maybe it was forbidden love.

"Now, tell me, Hopkins..." Tad said, glancing away from his forbidden lust for a moment to meet Jimmy's eyes. "Is it true you said I was _inbred_?"

Jimmy's eyes shifted uncomfortably. "Uh... no?"

"Because first cousins are legal, my friend." And Tad, who had been pointing at Jimmy's chest threateningly, turned to Chrys and did the same. "Legal."

Chrys held up her hands in defeat, trying to stifle a laugh. "Yeah, man. We don't doubt it."

"Yeah... and just because my eldest brother doesn't have a chin and ended up in a lunatic asylum, doesn't mean anything."

"Whatever, Tad." Jimmy said, his eyes shifting narrowly from Tad to the two boys standing behind him. "Your family is your business."

"And plus, if we're being honest here..." Chrys began. "It was probably me who said you were inbred, not Jimmy. So lay off, huh?"

Tad's glare shifted dangerously, but before he could lash out at Chrys, a voice came out of the darkness beside his house. An infuriating voice. One that shook Chrys to her very core, and when she saw the boy come out of the shadows, Jimmy put an arm in front of her. He'd be damned if he'd let her scrap on Tad's front lawn, especially considering the kid had most of the Bullworth cliques wrapped around his finger.

It was Gary. Back from _whateverthefuck_ little vacation he'd been on the days after his and Chrys' breakup. The world seemed to get gloomier at the sight of him, and all at once Jimmy's anger hit him. There were facts. 1. He could let Chrys go, and she would beat the shit out of Gary. 2. He could let Chrys go, and together they would beat up Gary. And 3. Jimmy could shove Chrys onto the ground, and beat the hell out of Gary himself.

But he supposed none of those were good ideas, really.

And besides, the way Tad was looking at Gary meant he'd probably already been brainwashed by the psychopath. He didn't want to get into a fight with all four of them, but if it came to it... he wouldn't necessarily be opposed.

"C'mon guys, don't lie." Gary said, walking up toward Tad. As soon as he was in arms length, Gary clapped the prep on the shoulder, which really did confirm Jimmy's suspicions. He had Tad wrapped around his little finger. "You said that Tad was probably a hermaphrodite with that much inbreeding."

Chrys rolled her eyes, and snorted. "Shut up, Gary."

But Jimmy looked at him, confused. "A hermaphro-what?"

"Listen, don't act dumb." he warned dangerously, even though he was the one making up an entire lie on the spot, and Jimmy really was just confused. "You said his mom was also legally his aunt, and that he probably has webbed toes."

In the silence that followed, Chrys could've sworn she heard a pin drop. Gary was smiling devilishly next to Tad, who was looking down at his hands and kicking his toes into the ground. She couldn't tell whether Tad was upset, or just contemplating the whole ordeal, but once he raised his head to glare at Jimmy, it all became clear.

"He's been rude about mummy!" Tad shouted, the egg carton in his hands becoming shorter and shorter under the pressure of him shoving the two ends together. "Let's get these paupers!"

After a short confrontation between Chrys and Chad, Chrys was off toward Tad's front gate. Jimmy, who shortly before was kicking Tad's head into the ground, followed after, and together the pair overpowered Parker for the gate key. It didn't take much, just a couple hits for the kid to fall to the ground and hand over the key, and then they were off down the street, a crowd of angry preps behind them.

They ran down the road for a bit in silence, before Chrys looked behind them and realized the preps were growing quickly closer. That panicked her. And without much thought to what she was saying, Chrys glanced sideways at Jimmy and shouted, "Let's hideout at my house." then veered quickly to the right to where her house sat behind a fence, and hopped it without much effort.

Jimmy, on the other hand, didn't expect to be veering off so soon. He, when faced with the fence, ran directly stomach first into the top row of concrete, and groaned loudly as he rolled over it. Landing on the perfectly kept grass six feet below, he pulled himself up.

Chrys was already halfway toward the house, bolting as fast as she could toward the front door with a set of keys that Jimmy had never seen before in her hands. Following suite, he heard a set of feet land on the ground behind him, and then another. That made Jimmy run faster than he ever had before. And before he or Chrys knew it, they were both inside her house, panting as they stood in front of her front door, bloody hands on the wood.

The house was gigantic in Jimmy's eyes. He knew Chrys had mentioned before about her parents residing in Old Bullworth Vale with all the preppy kids, but he'd never pictured that her house would've been the size that it was.

Liberty City was made almost entirely of apartments, and that's where Jimmy had spent a lot of his childhood. In the rough parts of the city. Sometimes he and his mother would make it out just long enough that Jimmy was able to let his guard down when he walked alone to school, but inevitably they'd always end up right back where they started. Downtown. In the heart of the city. Gun violence, sex, drugs.

But all of Bullworth was like that.

Chrys had grown up in a city where if you stepped a foot out of your own property you were almost guaranteed to get shoved down by another kid, or threatened with a knife. Even before, in Los Santos, she'd grown up rough. In the heart of the city. In a house just off the main stretch. He briefly wondered what that house had been like, but the thought came too late, as moments later there was a man standing in front of them. An angry looking man.

His eyes were icy blue, and his hair was blond. His face, which was groomed to perfection, was curled in an angry snarl, and through his parted lips Jimmy could see his teeth. Perfect, whiter than paper, straight. He was like a walking example of a rich, suburban man. With his navy blue suit steamed to perfection, and his dress shoes freshly shined. Jimmy couldn't tell who the man was, but he thought he might know.

For a moment, all Chrys did was stare at the man in front of him, as the two preps who'd followed them into her yard pounded on the front door behind them. She was silent, he was silent, and Jimmy was incredibly uncomfortable. He shifted on his feet, and when the man heard his feet moving, his glare shot over to Jimmy instantly.

"Who might you be?" the man asked, annoyed.

"I'm Jimmy." he said, holding out his hand for a handshake. "Jimmy Hopkins."

But the man didn't shake his hand back. Instead, he looked back over to Chrys. "Mind telling me why there's two teenagers in _my_ house, and two teenagers outside _my_ house waking up the entire goddamn neighbourhood?"

Chrys straightened, and pushed herself away from the door. "Mind telling me why you're not at work?"

The man, now apparent to Jimmy as being Chrys' father, rubbed his forehead. "Move." he ordered, and then grabbed Chrys' shirt and tugged her out of the way of the door. He then placed a hand on the front door nob, turning his head slightly, and said, "Why don't you go to your room, huh?"

"Why?" Chrys asked, eyes narrowed.

"I'm going to deal with these kids, and then I'll be down to talk to you." he said, almost threateningly. "Now... _go_."

"Don't wake the entire goddamn neighbourhood." Chrys said, tapping Jimmy's shoulder as a sign for him to follow. " _Sir_."

After they were out of earshot, Jimmy turned to Chrys, whispering, "So that's the famous dad?"

"In the flesh." Chrys said, opening the door to the basement and flicking the light switch. She then held out her hand, murmuring, "Ladies first."

Jimmy shot her a look, and then walked down the stairs, followed closely by Chrys. After Jimmy had hit the bottom, he waited for Chrys to lead him through the home theatre room, and workout room, to her bedroom. A room off in the corner of the basement, cold and dingy outside in every respect, but once they walked in it felt warm. But maybe that's just because Chrys had made it that way.

Her room had dark grey walls, the paint broken up only by some posters up on walls and some pictures of her and friends. There was a window above Chrys' desk, which was shoved into the far corner of the room, and the thing let in so much light that she didn't even need to turn on the light.

Chrys gestured grandly, smiling a bit. "Welcome to my home away from home."

And then flopped down onto her bed, kicking off her shoes.

"I like your room." Jimmy stated simply, taking a seat on the bed next to her. "It... uh... really showcases your personality."

Chrys laughed, "What's that supposed to mean?"

Jimmy also laughed, his eyes focusing on a particular picture above the bed which captured one of the few moments of happiness Gary and Chrys had ever had. "I dunno, you're just, like... dark."

"Great character reading, Jimmy." she said, her eyes also focusing on the same picture Jimmy's were. "You should become a book reviewer."

"I'm sure I'd make it real big in that business."

"Mmhm, definitely."

Then there was silence, broken only by Chrys' bed creaking as she sat up to look at the photos on the wall. There were a lot of them. All separated by millimeters, and separated by vaster moments in time. There were pictures of Pete, and Gary, and Trent, and a boy who looked a lot like Chrys (who Jimmy figured was her brother, Riley), and Johnny, and Norton. Pictures from times when Chrys was barely old enough to hold a bat, to literally the year before Jimmy came to Bullworth.

She sat staring at them for a moment, before her hand lifted almost hesitantly, and ripped one of the pictures that was smack in the middle down. It was one of her and Gary. One year younger, and sat on top of the ferries wheel at the carnival for their anniversary. Chrys could remember it like it was yesterday. But she didn't want to.

Instead, she tore the picture in half, crumpled it, and then tossed it into the garbage can next to her bed.

 _Fuck that guy._

And Jimmy who had watched the whole thing, smiled.

"Out with the old." he stated.

Chrys smiled back, laying down on her bed next to Jimmy. "And in with the new." she said.

And they both laid in silence.


	21. Love Letters and Panties (16 years)

**November 21, 2013**

Lola pulled her pajama bottoms on, and sat on the edge of her bed. Eyes locked on Angie, whose eyes were locked on the small card in her hands.

It was 9pm, and Angie had passed the card around the room after shaking Chrys awake, and grabbing Lola from the dorm's common room.

"I wanted your opinion," Angie had justified, "You two are both experienced in the boy department."

The card, which had been shoved underneath their door twenty minutes previous, read:

 _Dearest Angie,_

 _You are the light of my life. The lightbulb to my lamp. The claws to my cat. The teeth to my dog. The sun to my earth._

 _I've never had the courage to speak to you, but I fear you're moving on to someone else._

 _Jimmy Hopkins is NOT the right boy for you. I am._

 _I love you._

 _\- E_

After everyone had read the card, and Lola had stifled a laugh for a straight five minutes, Eunice was the first to speak.

"I think it's beautiful." she said, almost jealously. "Whoever wrote that must really love you, Angie."

Chrys shook her head, trying to play nice. "The letter said he's never even spoken to you. You can't love someone you've never had a conversation with." she reasoned, and for the first time in a long time, Lola agreed with her. "It's just an unhealthy obsession. Not love."

"Yeah..." Lola said cautiously. "And whoever it is — "

"It's Ernest." Chrys said. "That's totally his handwriting."

"And Ernest," Lola corrected, "is a total creep. You don't wanna get involved with someone like that."

Angie seemed deep in thought for a moment, before she shrugged. "Maybe you're right..."

But Eunice wasn't having any of it. "No, Angie, they're wrong. They don't know a damn thing about love."

Chrys narrowed her eyes. "Who says?"

"I say." Eunice snapped. "All Lola's had since middle school is Johnny, and obviously that's not working out too great. And Chrys had Gary, but look where that ended up."

Cracking her knuckles, Lola snarled, "Yeah? And so what? What experience do you have with love? What makes you more qualified than me?"

"The fact that I've never been in a failed relationship."

"Eunice, you've never been in a relationship. Period." Chrys said. "That argument doesn't really mean anything."

"Ya know what — "

"I'm tired." Chrys interrupted, angrily. "How about you three take it outside? I've put in my two cents."

Angie nodded. "Yeah... let's go to the common room until curfew."

"Thank you."

"Yeah. We'll see you later?"

"Where else am I gonna go, Angie?" Chrys said, laying back down on her bed.

"Bye, Chrys."

"Yup."

And then there was the sounds of three girls walking down the hallway, down the stairs, and then silence. Chrys was finally alone. She could relax, unwind, and...

 _Crrreeeak..._

 _Oh, what the fuck do they want?_ Chrys thought to herself.

And with brief consideration, she shot up from her bed, eyes locked on the door. But she nearly screamed, and instinctively grabbed a blanket to cover herself up. She wasn't wearing anything revealing, just a tank top with a sports bra underneath, and a pair of jogger shorts, but she still felt uncomfortable.

Jimmy stood in front of her wooden cabinet, one hand gripping tightly onto a couple pairs of underwear. There were more stuffed into the pocket of his hoodie, and for a moment he looked guilty. He straightened out, and dropped a couple pairs, realizing the closet he had been hiding in when the three girls walking in to wake Chrys, was probably his friends. And the underwear he had grabbed inside, was hers.

"What the fuck are you doing?" Chrys snapped, pulling the blanket off of her, and standing to go grab her underwear.

Jimmy seemed at a loss for words. He just shrugged. "Laundry?"

Chrys rolled her eyes, grabbing another pair of her underwear from Jimmy's clenched fist before tossing them back into her closet. She felt a little violated, to be honest. But at least Jimmy had seen her nice, cute panties. Her colourful thongs and cheekies, instead of her granny panties which were shoved elsewhere.

"Laundry, hm?" Chrys said, crossing her arms and tapping her foot. "Is that why you're only grabbing the panties?"

Jimmy looked guilty again. "It's... a long story, Chrys."

She gestured almost angrily, laughing. "Well, we got a lot of time."

"Okay, okay, alright." Jimmy said, shoving the last pairs of underwear into his hoodie pocket. "I was out, okay? In town. And you know that XXX store down the main stretch?"

"Who doesn't?"

"Right. So I was walking by there, and I see none other than Mr Burton walking out, with porn mags." Jimmy said, and Chrys wanted to vomit. "So I decide to fuck with him. And a whole bunch of things happen, and next thing I know he's telling me he's _forgot to do the laundry_. Which is total bullshit, but I'm playing along, right? And he promises me money if I go into the girls dorm and grab him his share for the week."

Jimmy nodded, almost as if to congratulate himself.

"So... you're fueling Burton's pervertedness?" Chrys said.

"Well, when you say it like that, it sounds bad..."

"It's because it is bad."

"I'm getting money." Jimmy said. "I can take you and Pete to the carnival. All on me."

"Just because you get money from doing it, doesn't make it right, Jim." Chrys said, rubbing her forehead in exasperation. "Look at prostitutes. Drug lords."

"I think stealing underwear from the girls dorm is a little less extreme than selling your body on the street, and having an international drug cartel."

"It starts soft, Jimmy. It always does." Chrys said.

They both stood in silence for a moment, looking at each other. But then Chrys smirked, running trembling fingers over her eyes. "You're a piece of garbage, ya know?"

Jimmy laughed, looking down at the bulging pocket of his hoodie. "Thanks for pointing out the obvious."

Everything seemed serene for a moment, like nothing was out of the ordinary. It was like Jimmy didn't have a pocket stuffed with underwear, and Chrys hadn't found him trying to steal her underwear as well. But the moment didn't last long. And everything came rushing back.

"Help!" someone shouted from the hallway. "There's a pervert in here!"

Chrys' head whipped around, and outside her door stood one of the younger kids. She was squealing, staring at Jimmy, and pointing directly into Chrys' room.

Someone pulled the fire alarm moments later.

Almost immediately the sprinklers started going. Water was spraying all the contents within Chrys' room, and before she could even swear, Jimmy was off down the hallway, down the stairs and out the door, a trail of panties in his wake. Chrys followed suit, trying to cover her head from the water even though it was already soaked, and so was she. Head to toe.

All the girls flooded outside. Dripping wet with stale water, and sludge that had grown in the pipes for so many years. Boys stood on the other side in the boys dorm, watching and laughing as girls screamed and flicked the mucky substance off their arms and legs. It almost seemed like it was alive, and when Chrys flicked a particularly large piece of her arm, Christy said she saw it move.

But Chrys didn't want to think about it.

And as the prefects consoled some of the younger girls, Chrys stood alone in the crowd. Dripping, cold, and above all, a little amused.


End file.
